



9^ ^ ■> * ^ o- 













^^.,# - 



\^ ^ ' V 



-V* 



>* G 



'^o^ 


















vOo^ 






N C 






15 S>' -i 













vOo 









ilra 



^ 






^^.. ^ ^^ -^^^ 






,0 






n\' * 



"^Ss. 



Ip 



.A^^ 



.<;' 



"-^^ v^ 



. .<< .^ 






.^=' 













DISCOURSES 



ON 



COMMON TOPICS OE CHRISTIAN FAITH 
AND PRACTICE. 



iJqi 



BY 



JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D.D, 



THE LIBRARY 
or CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



NEW YORK: 
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET. 

1858. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S5S, by 

CHARLES SCEIBNER, 

In the District Court of the United States for tho Southern District of 
New York. 



John F. Teow, 
Printer, Stereotyper, and Electrotyper 
317 & 379 Broadway, 
Cor. White Street, New York. 






' X' * ^ . •* > ..» . ., , 



PREFACE 



The appearance of tliese Discourses is clue to the kind 
importunity of the Publisher, once my pupil and since 
my esteemed friend, who has for several years asked this 
contribution. Diligent inquiry of the Trade has informed 
me, that while the recent depression of business has 
lessened literary demand in general, the proportion of 
religious books sold has strikingly increased. 

There are, as every one knows, several clever sayings, 
which set aside the Sermon as a species characteristically 
dull and unreadable ; and this has tempted not a few, in 
giving the matter of their preaching to the world, to use 
some disguise as to the original form. Yet the testimony 
of booksellers is, that some of the most widely spread 
publications of the day are collections of Sermons. 



4 PKEFACE. 

Printing is only preacliing in another sliape. Pro- 
vided, then, that people will read, a minister of Christ 
needs no more apology for putting his instructions into 
type, than for going into the pulpit. If he is sincere and 
zealous, his intention will be the same in both. He is 
only giving vast increase to the circle of his influence, 
for good or evil. 

The affectionate and often fondly partial hearers of 
any preacher, are apt to desire the publication of what 
has been blessed to their spiritual strength and comfort ; 
and such derive a profit from the printed book which 
cannot be measured by its intrinsic quality. It is with 
this view that these pages are more particularly dedi- 
cated to the beloved people of my charge. 

After all, the controlling reason for publishing as well 
as preaching, should be a desire to glorify God in the 
salvation of men, by communicating as widely as possible 
the truth of the Gospel. When we have done all, we 
leave millions unreached by our endeavours ; and if by 
any means we can add even one to the number of learn- 
ers, it is worth the labour. Each messenger has some 
peculiarity in his way of influence. Every man who 
thinks long and deeply upon the plan of grace has cer- 
tain favourite views, which have cost him something, 
which he cherishes with delight, and in which he strongly 
desires that others may participate. Even truths as old as 
Christianity itself strike him in such a way that he flatters 



PREFACE. 5 

himself lie can bring them home with a kindred freshness 
to his neighbours and brethren. Let me avow that there 
are doctrinal statements in the following pages, which, 
though in no sense novel, are such as conduce to the very 
life of my soul, and such therefore as I am exceedingly 
desirous, in my humble measure, to rescue from misap- 
j)rehension and inculcate on my children and friends. 
]N"o speaker or writer is likely to leave a deep mark upon 
other minds, or in any degree to mould the thinking of 
his contemporaries, except by the utterance of principles, 
which not only are held by him in sincerity of belief, but 
are dear to his heart and operative on his character, as 
being inseparable from the current of his daily and 
nightly thinking. They may be true, or they may be 
false ; but of him who holds them they are the weapons 
of warfare. Hence we are sometimes fain to do homage 
to the earnestness of a man, whose reasonings do not 
bring us over. For the doctrines here set forth, I claim 
only this : whether with or without reason, they are my 
belief. Years fly apace, natural vigour wanes, and op- 
portunities of personal influence become fewer ; but my 
profound conviction of the verities here proposed waxes 
stronger and stronger, with a corresponding earnestness 
to diffuse and impress them. No concealment or com- 
promise has been attempted as to the tenets ; which be- 
long to a scheme of belief, ancient, intelligibly distinct, 
even singular, long contested, read and known of all men. 



Q PREFACE. 

Yet if there is aught here which shall disturb any evan- 
gelical mind, it has crept in without a polemical purpose. 
The field is immeasurably large, in w^hich we may ex- 
patiate, without setting foot upon the minor controver- 
sies of the schools ; and some who are immovably at- 
tached to certain theological distinctions, would be the 
last to lay them among the foundations, or erect them 
into terms of communion, or set them forth as tests of 
grace. It is hoped, meanwhile, that humble experienced 
believers will find here in due prominence those central 
truths concerning Jesus Christ and Him crucified, by 
which all theology and all sermons must stand or fall. 

None of tlie articles which make up this book belong 
to the class of Occasional Discourses ; one only, intended 
for the young, was delivered by request ; all are such as 
came up in the routine of a common ministry. They are 
intentionally miscellaneous, and several of the number 
are recent, as having been preached during the late 
blessed awakening. 

It is my humble and hearty prayer, that God would 
vouchsafe, by his Holy Spirit, to make them useful. 

New York, November^ 1858. 



CONTENTS 



PREFACE 3 

I. 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF 11 

IL 

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY . . 49 

III. 
THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD IN PARTICULARS . .73 

IV. 

THE INCARNATION . . . ! . 93 

V 

THE CHARACTER OF THE WORLDLING . . .125 

VL 
THE SCORNER 149 



8 CONTENTS. 

Til. PAGE 

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER . . .169 

VIII. 
DYING FOR FRIENDS 187 

IX. 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING 207 

X. 

THE THIRSTY INVITED 225 

XI. 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION . . .245 

XII. 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED . . . 263 

XIII. 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR 283 

XIV. 
THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN . . .321 

XV. 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST 341 

XVI. 
MIRTH 361 

XVIL 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES 379 



CONTENTS. 9 

XVIII. PAGE 

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE 399 

XIX. 

STRENGTH IN CHRIST 423 

XX. 

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE .... 443 



1. 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.* 



2 CoE. ii. 11. 
" For we are not ignorant of his devices." 

I. If Satau has the guile, the experience and the 
enmity which we commonly ascribe to him, he may be 
expected not to confine himself to one mode of attack 
on Christianity, but to bring up new forces and lay siege 
to new points in each successive age. And if the de- 
fenders of Truth have been as successful as we allege, 
they must make up their minds to see fresh reserves of 
argumentation, satire and obloquy taking the places of 
those which have been resisted and overcome. These 
antecedent probabilities are exactly realized in the ac- 
tual strategy of our powerful antagonist. Christianity 
has been assaulted in every age since the beginning, but 
with a continual change in the object of the onset and 
the weapons and manoeuvres of the foe. The objec- 

* Xew York, February 8, 1852. 



14 OtJR MODERN UXBELIEF. 

tions of Poi^hyry and Celsus seemed formidable in their 
day, and called out early ^vriters in those Apologies, as 
they are named, which still exist in the libraries of the 
learned ; but their objections would scarcely disturb the 
faith of a Clu'istian child in our times ; and they have 
long been laid asleep. A tremendous force was brought 
to bear against the Church by the Enghsh deists, and 
their successors, the pliilosophers of France. From the 
literature, the elegance, the occasional wit, the numbers 
and the skill of these opponents, an undeniable shock 
was given to the belief of thousands, as we may see in 
the period anterior to the French Revolution. There 
were not wanting men to predict that Christianity would 
speedily yield before such talent and daring as those of 
Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume, Gibbon, Diderot, and D'Hol- 
bach. The work wrought by these fascinating scholars, 
in academies, courts and drawing-rooms, was carried on 
lower down in society by such men as Paine, in clubs 
and pothouses. All these attacks of the eighteenth 
century had a common character. AVhether sceptical, 
deistical, or atheistical, they all belonged to what has 
since been known as Rationalism. All denied the 
Bible, and many of them treated it vdth scorn, sarcasm, 
and blasphemy ; all set up human Reason as the sole 
origin of Truth on the points in question. Materiahsts 
and immateriahsts, sober theists and blank atheists, 
they agreed in this family likeness. There was no 
elevation, or enthusiasm, or mysticism. Every thing 
in rehgion was brought to the test of cold calculation. 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. ^5 

The pretence of close logic was never more vauntingly 
put forth. It was by critical dissection and links of 
reasoning almost mathematical, that all these mibeUevers 
imdertook to demonstrate the falsity of our alleged 
revelation. This was the form of infidelity which pre- 
vailed in France, Prussia, Scotland, and in certain circles 
in America, during the youth of our fathers. It may 
be seen in its best colom^s in Volney and in the letters 
of Jefferson. What a sweep it made in France, even of 
the Romish clergy, is known to aU who have ever con- 
templated the career of a Talleyrand, a Sieyes, or a 
Fouche. Some of the worst of the bloody actors were 
unfrocked priests. It was against this form of oppo- 
sition that Divine Providence called forth such writers 
as Watson, Beattie, Campbell, and Robert Hall.'* Some 
of our most valuable treatises on the Evidences of Chris- 
tianity are the fruits of this warfare. Voltaire predicted 
that in twenty years Christianity would be extinct, and 
Mr. Jefferson seemed to smile in anticipation of an age 
in which superstition should be no more. Once in a 
while, and generally among the least educated, especially 
artisans and operatives who come to us from Great 
Eritam, we find a knot of antiquated scoffers, who pore 
over these exploded books and shed libations upon the 
cai'cass of Paine. That grand army is as thoroughly 
disbanded as was Napoleon's at Waterloo ; but Chiis- 
tianity stiU survives, and some of its greatest triumphs 



* R 



ee Hall's celebrated Sermon on Modern Infidelity. 



10 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

have been made since this very epoch. We have beheld, 
not the enthroning of the goddess of Reason, but the era 
of the Bible Society, of Missions, of mighty Revivals, 
and of increased Protestant union. If the citadel of 
Christianity is to fall, it must be by other weapons than 
those which he black and rusty around the fortification, 
like the spiked cannon and stray balls which mark the 
spot of former engagements. That campaign of the 
antichristian war has reached its close; and he who 
would bring forth against us the armament of an age 
utterly left behind, only betrays the simplicity of igno- 
rance. But are we, therefore, to conclude that Satan 
has desisted from his attempts ? By no means. He 
has only availed himself of the pause, to levy forces for 
a new campaign, and assault positions heretofore miat- 
tempted. And it is a most interestmg and needful 
inquiry, in what shape the infidel incursion of our own 
day is to be expected ; for the whole hne of our defences 
must be conformable to the dispositions of the enemy. 
It is my desire, therefore, to ask your attention to some 
characteristics of the infidelity wliich we have most to 
fear for om'selves and our cliildren. And here there is 
danger lest we make the field of observation too wide, 
and thus content ourselves with a superficial view. We 
ought therefore to exclude, however important in their 
place, aU those forms of error which claim for themselves 
a part in the church foundation, and which name them- 
selves Christian. It is not heresy, however noxious, 
which we would now examine, but infidelity. Nor 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 



17 



must we err so grossly as to assert that all infidels be- 
long to a single class. Their name is legion. It has 
been admitted that here and there a specimen may be 
found of the old-fashioned calculating unbeliever of the 
French or Jacobin, that is, the rationalistic school. 
Among the remainder there are also various degrees. 
No one is ruined all at once. In the awful descent 
each apostate finds " beneath the lowest deep a lower 
deep ; " and the precise shade of blackness and darkness 
which we meet in him must depend on the stage of this 
downward progress at which we make our observation. 
Yet the infidelity of the nineteenth century has charac- 
teristics as discernible as that of the eighteenth ; and if 
these are occasionally less distinct, it is because the un- 
belief of our day is forming, but not formed ; the pro- 
cess is incomplete ; the development is still going on. 
We have to examine tendencies rather than results ; yet 
as naturalists can detect the poison fruit even in its 
blossom, and the viper in its egg ; and as the premo- 
nitions of the earthquake or volcano give inarticulate 
warnings before the earth is cleft and the lava boiling 
over, so we have a right to sit in judgment on the falsi- 
ties beginning to prevail, even though we know but in 
part whereunto they shall grow. 

1 . The beginnings of this contemporaneous infidehty 
were with a show of great learning and science. As- 
sumptions of this sort were indeed made by the Ency- 
clopedists and French atheists ; but their attainments 
were limited and often superficial. Several great sciences, 



23 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

in their new forms, liave been born since their day. 
We have only to read the " Jew's Letters " to learn the 
ignorance of Voltaire as to some of the most ordinary 
matters of Biblical science ; and the veriest schoolboy 
would scout the claim of probability for Volney. In 
our times, if one country more than another has the 
boast of learning, it is Germany ; and there, if any- 
where, Infidelity has made its wildest ravages. It was 
Lessing who led the way in violent warfare against 
Christ ; Lessing, the poet, the man of taste, the almost 
universal genius. Goethe and Schiller are claimed, by 
the infidels ; yet the last age has produced no greater 
masters of the human heart. The philosophy which 
takes its name from Germany, and which has penetrated 
France, and entered largely into the pubhc institutions 
of America, was born and nurtured and matured in 
the bosom of noble universities, founded for the up- 
holding of Protestant rehgion. The new sciences have 
been invoked to prove the Bible false. Astronomy has 
been placed on the rack, to testify that Creation at the 
scriptural date is absm'd. Geologists, scarcely at the 
threshold of their discoveries, unsettled in their very 
nomenclature, and unwiUing to wait tiU they can agree 
among themselves, have so read the strata of the earth 
as to give the He to the books of Moses. Ethnography 
and Ethnology, puffed up in new-born strength, have ut- 
tered oracles showing that the negro and the white man 
cannot have had common progenitors . All have boasted 
superior letters and philosophy. But above all, the 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. ^g 

metaphysical reasoners, one after anotlier, have, spider- 
hke, spun a thread out of their bowels, wherewith to 
entangle and crush the doctrines of the Gospel. With 
a show of erudition and acumen never sm^passed, one of 
the most prominent infidel theologians of Germany ut- 
tered a " Life of Jesus," undertaking to show that all 
the miraculous histories and most of the ordinary narra- 
tives in our four Gospels are poetic figments, mythic 
fables, innocent or heated inventions, hke the story of 
the labours of Hercules, or the nursery legend of Jack 
Frost ; pleasant personifications and instructive apo- 
logues, with scarce a line of real fact at the bottom. 
Whole libraries have been ransacked to give basis to 
this absurd structure, the mere statement of which ought 
to be its confutation. Let it be my apology for aUudmg 
to this poisonous book of Dr. Strauss, to say that it is 
circulated in English in many editions, and that it has, 
to my knowledge, entered the house of one of oiu^ own 
persuasion, and perverted the soul of one trained under 
the truth. Om- popular literary men have in some 
cases drunk this poison. Certain portions of the Uni- 
tarian body, unable to keep foothold on the narrow 
edge between their attenuated Christianity and Deism, 
have cast themselves into the gulf of Germanism. If 
you would know what I mean, consider tlie teachings 
of Theodore Parker, Emerson, and their confederates. 
This is, as you perceive, no longer the vulgar infidehty 
of the last age ; but it is not less destructive. 

2. The Infidelity of our age afiects to be religious. 



20 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

This could hardly be said of that which prevailed before. 
The attempt was, in most, to scout every thing like de- 
votion, enthusiasm, or inward affection, as superstitious. 
It was found that this was first impolitic, and then im- 
possible. It was found that man as a religious being 
must have some outlet for the spiritual sentiments, and 
would make religions for himself, such as the French 
Theophilanthropism, or betake himself to the beautiful 
idolatries of Greece, as both Gibbon and Schiller seemed 
half disposed to do. It was found that man, despoiled 
of all the religious emotions, became a Marat or a Paine, 
a tiger or a swine. It was necessary therefore for the 
arch-enemy to remodel his devices, and bring in a reli- 
gion which was better than that of the Bible. This, my 
brethren, this above all things else, is the grand charac- 
teristic of infidelity, in its present most dangerous form. 
Your sons and your daughters may be breathing the 
fatal chloroform of German transcendentalism, when 
they seem to themselves surrounded by the familiar air of 
Christianity. They may hear much from popular lectur- 
ers of the ideal, the spiritual, the divine, even of God in- 
carnate in humanity, of resurrection, of faith, of Christ 
himself, when the subtle deceiver, annexing to these 
terms his o\yji antichristian meanings, is slowly and de- 
liciously, but surely and fatally charming from them all 
that can renew and save the soul. Most of all danger- 
ous is our spiritual enemy when he thus transforms 
himself into an angel of Hght. 

You have need to be warned against this new form 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 21 

of error, because it employs almost every term of theolo- 
gy and experience in a false and deceptive sense, often 
applying the most sacred words of gracious truth to 
matters of literature, scenery, the fine arts, love, and alas, 
even to sinful indulgence. Some of the foremost poets 
of our day are chargeable with these insidious tactics ; 
so that a father has need to look well to the books 
which lie upon his daughter's table, as splendid presen- 
tation copies. I do not mean merely the avowed 
Atheist and convicted blasphemer, Shelley, who ma- 
ligned Jesus and argued against marriage ; but many 
seemingly pure and undoubtedly gifted authors, who 
sing beautifully of Nature and of God. And here we 
must remark, that while under the former phase of Infi- 
dehty, much was said of Nature, under its present phase 
as much is said of God. Yet be not deceived, my 
brethren. If frequent repetition of the Sacred Name 
could sanctify a cause, theirs would be hallowed indeed. 
But their God is not om- God ; not the God and Father 
of the Lord Jesus Christ ; not the God of the Saints ; 
not even a personal God. With many varieties of ex- 
pression, and many modes of veiling their horrid pm*- 
pose, their inward thought is to remove all that we mean 
by God. The more they talk of God, the less they be- 
lieve in him. In thek disguised atheism the term im- 
phes the sum of aU things, or the everlastingly unfold- 
ing process of causes, or the universal Reason, as exist- 
ing in all minds. Sometimes, in their glorification of 
humanity, they utter the scriptural phrase, God is man ; 



22 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

but tlieir inward meaning is that man is God. Man is 
the ol)ject of their adoration. The highest manifestation 
of God, say they, is in the human mind. This they 
dishonestly name, at times, the Incarnation. Indeed, 
there is scarcely a precious term in the vocabulary of 
grace, which they have not stolen and defiled by their 
abominable prostitution. Tliis is the form of atheism 
which now threatens the world, and which has been 
called Pantheism. Few have gone the length of hold- 
ing the system in all its parts ; many differ as to minute 
tenets and explanations ; but towards this vortex all the 
popular and poetical unbeliefs of the age are rollmg 
themselves. This maelstrom has already sucked in and 
engulfed several sickly and half-living heresies, among 
the rest a goodly portion of the Socinians. The bloodless 
humanitarianism of Priestley and Belsham was too cold, 
too reasoning, too deatlilike ; their churches wei^e too 
sombre and empty ; their very ministers could not be kept 
from becoming authors, statesmen, or diplomatic agents ; 
their creed was too near Deism. This was discovered 
1)y many of the shrewder sort. Hence the new method of 
reconcihng opposites which had been discovered in Ger- 
many was seized with avidity ; and from this arises the 
modern philosophical, poetical, pantheistical Christian. 
Por a reason above given, such a one may, by dexterous 
use of scriptural terms, give his discourses a sound 
which is all but orthodox. But the more sober and 
rational Unitarian abhors these extravagances scarcely 
less than we. Never before has the world seen so large 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 



23 



a body of infidels, really denying every thing like a 
proper revelation, yet full of great swelling words about 
tlie Spirit, the God of History, the union of Virtue and 
Beauty, and the excellence of Religion. 

3. The Infidelity of our age connects itself with 
freedom and social progress. So far as the infidelity of 
France was a reaction against hierarchy and th*e pope, 
it had the same colours. Hence the very men who 
murdered the priesthood in the September massacres, 
were loud in cries of liberty, equality, and fraternity. 
But this policy of modern unbelief is much more boldly 
marked. Hence the cry, on every side, that Chris- 
tianity is a failure ; that the Church has not made men 
happy ; that whatever good the Bible has accomplished, 
its work is done, and we must have something better. 
It is a part of this scheme to glory in humanity as such ; 
to assert the independence and self-sufiiciency of man ; 
to deify the creature, and pushing the rights of man to 
a Jacobinical and impracticable extreme, to instal lawless 
Freedom in the pulpit. There is' something so attach- 
ing and gracious in the first aspect of a levelling system, 
that any scheme of this kind gains multitudes of con- 
verts among the oppressed, the suffering, the discon- 
tented, the aspiring, and the greedy. Even in our own 
free commonwealth, where every man who deserves to 
rise may succeed in it, so far as outward restrictions 
are concerned, there begins to be more and more every 
year, a half-suppressed hum and murmur among certain 
large classes ; as if all ranks must be brought to a com- 



24 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

mon level ; as if the capitalist and the transient worker 
must share ahke ; as if the accumulations of industry 
must become a spoil for the idlest ; as if labom^ with 
the hands were the only title to enjoyment. This being 
openly and diametrically opposed to the letter of Scrip- 
ture, these teachers, however they may begin, are pretty 
sure to end in discovering that the Bible is false. Thus, 
strange as it may seem, philanthropy, unsanctified, may 
lead unsound minds to unbelief ; and there are no more 
reckless and bitter opponents of Christianity than a 
number of writers, lecturers, and editors, whom we 
once knew or heard of as ministers of Jesus Christ. 
The truth, however, must be told : just as with Euro- 
pean grain we have brought into our fields the weeds 
of agriculture, so with the unheard-of emigration from 
foreign countries, we have imported infidel socialism 
and communism. It is no longer the books and argu- 
ments of false teachers, only, we have the men them- 
selves, the ready-made disciples, clamouring in our 
public assemblies, and" inflaming a peaceful population 
from the press. I leave, as not pertaining to the pul- 
pit, the question how far this influx from corrupt 
sources may be expected to modify our political institu- 
tions. 

The device of Satan is most apparent in all this. 
The excesses towards Avliich infidelity drives, are coun- 
terfeits and caricatures of the very blessings which we 
owe to true religion. For, is not Christianity the reli- 
gion of the poor and the oppressed? Is it not the 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 25 

religion of philanthropy ? Does it not teach the com- 
mon origin and spiritual equality of all men, in the sight 
of God ? Does it not seek, and at the safest moment 
procm^e, human freedom and social rights ? Must it 
not be named pre-eminently the system of true progress ? 
Yea, yea, in despite of Garrison and Proudhon, forever 
yea. But when God has launched his vessel, infidelity 
would board and master it, and, tearing its noble tim- 
bers apart, would frame a thousand fantastic and 
perishable rafts out of the dismembered hulk. Nay, 
circling around the ancient ship, she would claim for 
her crazy floats, of stolen material, all the safety and all 
the glory of the original structure. The press of the 
day, deeply surrendered to the half-religions and mock- 
religions of the time, is ever and anon jeering at the 
Cluuch and at Christianity, as not doing so much for 
mankind as these reformers would do, as jacobinism 
would do, as common property and unmarried alliance 
would do. Thus antediluvians laughed at the Ark. 
Hiding from view the fact that whatever philanthropy 
irrigates the desert of humanity, is the product of this 
very Church and this very Christianity. They calumni- 
ate the mountain spring, and claim all its flowing lakes 
and rivers as their o^vn. But you will agree with me, 
that the prevalent infidehty assumes to be the benefactor 
of mankind. 

4. The infidelity of our time is extending itself 
among the less cultivated classes. Begun in learning, 
it was almost proverbial in ancient times that Chris- 



26 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

tianity was gladly received by the poor, while it was 
rejected by the learned. Something of this was true 
a century ago. The vims of French unbelief was gene- 
rated among scholars, and fomented in courts and 
academies. During the progress of the anarchy which 
preceded Napoleon, the leading spirits were men of 
education ; the brutal masses, it is true, maddened by 
long oppression, feverish with the thirst of freedom, and 
confoundhig Christianity with the despotism of the 
priesthood and the confessional, abjured the Redeemer, 
and well-nigh offered up the idea of God. This was more 
from false political notions however, than from any de- 
liberate theory of religious unbelief. And when Deism, 
or, perhaps, Atheism, came over sea into many minds 
in America, it was print^ipally among speculative men, 
who aspired to be philosophers. But our own day has 
seen a very great increase of this tendency in anti- 
christian systems to popularize themselves. The most 
capable observers tell us concerning Germany, for ex- 
ample, that the language of unbelief and blasphemy is 
no longer confined to the schools and universities where 
it Hngered long. The upland waters have broken them- 
selves away, and are flooding the champaign. There 
is reason to fear that in central and northern Europe 
the masses of the people are rapidly becoming corrupt 
in regard to the essentials of religion. In lands where 
it is difficult to find a boy or a girl who cannot read, 
thousands and myriads are growing up to neglect all 
public worship and all private prayer. I grieve to say 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 



27 



it — but a great number of tlie foreigners who emigrate 
to America are grossly infidel. It is the solemn and 
sorrowful testimony of most respected clergymen of 
then' own race. It is attested by the radical, and often 
antichristian avowals of the numerous newspapers pub- 
lished among us in that language. Nor is the evil 
confined to one country. The contagion has spread 
widely among the working-classes of Great Britain, 
many of whom bring over their scepticism or their im- 
piety. It may be safely asserted, that wherever we find 
a club, society or institute openly and loudly infidel, 
we may detect a large infusion of transatlantic people. 
Yet we must not flatter ourselves that our native popu- 
lation, especially in cities and large towns, enjoys an 
exemption. Wliile the great body, through Divine fa- 
vour, remains untouched, the new generation has many 
growing up without any Sabbath, indifierent to pubhc 
worship, schooled without the Bible, a ready prey to 
false religionists in the first place, and thus prepared to 
take the further step into denial of aU revelation. The 
means of grace do not any longer reach our population 
in its length and breadth. Chm-ches rise in great num- 
bers, where the truth is preached and honoured; but 
other places of religious teaching, in equal numbers, 
draw crowds into Universalism, Socinianism, enthusi- 
astic and fanatical heats, and insane pretensions to 
mysterious influence and spiritual revelation. And 
then, what numbers in civic populations frequent no 
house of worship ! A late writer, of much observation 



28 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

and detail, speaking of the street-people of London, as- 
sures us that thirty thousand of this single class never 
enter any place of religious instruction. We have not 
reached this extreme ; but are we not on the way ? It 
is matter of observation, that our churches are generally 
filled with at least well-doing people. But where are 
the vastly greater numbers of those who still more need 
the consolations of the gospel ? I bring no charges, 
brethren ; indeed, I have the sickening faintness of one 
who beholds a great malady, but is not prepared to an- 
nounce a specific remedy ; revived Christianity being 
the only real cure. For my present argument, it is 
enough to point to this state of things, obviously in- 
creasing, as a proof that the modern irreligion is widely 
prevalent among the humbler portions of society. 

5. The Infidelity of our times is strikingly immoral 
in its tendency. All falsehood in religion is by its very 
nature opposed to virtue ; but in varying degrees, ac- 
cording to the presence or absence, and according to 
the degree, of the causes already enumerated. Satan 
does not always display the cloven foot. The minister 
of darkness does not at once disclose himself in the 
colours of the pit. It is the pohcy of unbelief, while 
working its way upward into public favour, to assume 
the garb of purity. Hence, there have been many 
avowed infidels who, out of the very pride of sect, have 
led lives of scrupulous outward virtue. Lord Herbert 
of Cherbury is not the only Deist who has seemed to 
outshine many a Christian professor. But in our day, 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 29 

the evil tree is hung all over with its proper loathsome 
friiit. The prevailing forms of unbehef in revelation 
are accompanied with manifest deterioration of morals. 
When men begin to go astray in conduct, and to in- 
dulge any great vice, they gladly embrace such errors 
as may stupefy conscience, and so enable them to sin 
unchecked. And then, the effect in turn becomes a 
cause ; and by an inverse action the falsehood breeds 
in-egularity and crime. Go where you will, among 
families, neighbourhoods or communities, where there 
has been shipT\Teck made of faith, and you observe a 
correspondent injury of the moral sense. It is almost 
an unfailing index of the modern infidel, that he in- 
veighs against the perpetuity and sanctity of marriage. 
By an easy process, the sanctions of property are worn 
away. Inoculate any large class with antichristian 
opinions, and the contagious influence becomes horridly 
rife. An angry, relentless spirit of discontent, mutual 
distrust, lust of change, revolutionary fire, and general 
disquiet, plays on the features and inflames the lan- 
guage. The great and invaluable gift of freedom fur- 
nishes no safeguard here, unless it be coupled with true 
rehgion. Preedom is only a condition, under which 
men's principles act. If those principles are destruc- 
tive, freedom is but an open door to ruin. The abso- 
lute freedom of a thorouglily immoral people, " hateful 
and hating one another," would be nothing short of 
hell. Indeed, the instinct of self-preservation does not 
allow men to remain long in any state approaching this ; 



30 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

for, ill dread of one another, tliey are fain to take refuge 
under tlie protective shadow of mihtary domination or 
imperial tyranny. 

Blessed be God, the religion which fled to this new 
world for an asylum is still spared to us ; and there 
are wide agricultural districts which have not been 
reached by more than the rumour of philosophic infideli- 
ty and disorganizing wrong. Yet, so far as this religious 
guard has been impaired, the consequence has been a 
relaxation of public morals. 

It is not perfectly easy to declare, how far we may 
trace to this source the increase of crime, which is mat- 
ter of every-day complaint. Some think that breaches 
of mercantile confidence are less rare than fifty years 
ago. The jomiials of every morning familiarize us to 
the record of murder. And suicide, the special crime 
of those who deny a future retribution, is committed 
with a frequency which often robs the gibbet of its 
prey. I might note other crimes, but your memory 
and observation will supply what it might be inconve- 
nient to describe from this place. It admits no denial, 
that while individual exceptions occur, the usual result 
of disbelief in the Evangelical Scriptm-es, is an open 
declension of morality, and that this result is especially 
remarkable at present. 

II. In the opening of these remarks ifc was ad- 
mitted that the period of Infidelity in which we are 
living has not reached its term, and that to judge it 



OUR MODEEN UNBELIEF. 3| 

fully we must wait till the causes now in action sliall 
have worked out their full results. Eor there is a growth 
in opinion as truly as in the rise, progress and end of a 
human being ; and though in both cases there may be 
further consequences, it is rather by lineal descent than 
by the continuance ' of individual life. There is, more- 
over, a wide extent in the prevalence of great falsehoods. 
Beginning in one corner of the world, they spread them- 
selves from country to country ; and just as the harvest 
comes at a different month in Canada, in Maryland, and 
in Mississippi, so the full crop of infidelity is not seen 
at one and the same time in all lands. In some it has 
begun to scatter its narcotic seeds, while in others there 
is but the tender blade emerging from the furrow ; but 
this very gradation enables us to study the character of 
the growth. If in certain places we find the mature 
plant, with its poisonous juices thoroughly concocted, 
we thereby learn what we may expect from the young 
and perhaps attractive flower which blooms among our- 
selves. There are countries where infidelity may be 
said to have run its race and displayed all its stages of 
insidious promise and eventual desolation. Such was 
France under the Revolution. There are others in which 
it is only beginning. Dreadful as it is, it is nevertheless 
true, that the presses of New York and Philadelphia 
have issued thousands of copies of the last century's 
infidelity, in the works of Voltaire, Vohiey, Rousseau, 
and Paine, in Spanish translations for the South Amer- 
ican market. And, as if the mahgnity of Satan could 



32 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

have no rest, some of these same books have been labo- 
riously and widely circulated in the native languages of 
the East Indies, to corrupt the ignorant and besotted 
Hindoo, and to close his mind against the gospel. 
Such states of opinion are widely different from that 
which exists among ourselves, as indeed our own state 
differs from that of some European nations, where 
vaster strides have been made towards the denial of all 
moral distinctions and of God himself. Thus the 
giant pestilence of our day, which circumnavigated the 
globe, began in Asia and traversed Europe before it 
showed its ghastly visage on our western shores twenty 
years ago. But this gradual accession of the plague 
allow^ed and encouraged medical skill to examine the 
natm^e of the disease long before the treatment of it 
became a practical question. We have been consider- 
ing a more fatal malady which is traversing the earth, 
and of which the symptoms are not deathly coldness and 
spasms of bodily pain, but mental delusion, palsied con- 
science, and a heart ossified by godless falsehood. We 
have seen it seizing men of learning, taste and civiliza- 
tion, and then stealing like an infection into the crowded 
haunts of labour and the hovels of want. We have de- 
scried in it a type differing from the infidel deceptions 
of a former generation. We are old enough to remem- 
ber its beginnings under this new form among our- 
selves ; and we open our eyes to its more consmnmate 
virulence in countries w^here it has more deeply corroded 
the vitals of Christianity. We are alarmed at daily in- 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 



33 



dications of its stealthy but effectual expansion in the 
literature and society around our doors. We begin to 
tremble for our cbildren and successors. Unless the 
whole picture has been overcharged, we read in all this 
a lesson, which may cast a sober hue over the thoughts 
of even the most selfish and worldly. 

1. We are loudly admonished to be on our guard. 
When pestilence is in. the air, wise householders look 
well to the symptoms of their family. AVhen enemies 
are in a land, true generalship throws out its parties of 
reconnaissance, and keeps a sharp eye on every suspicious 
wayfarer and every sign of treachery and ambush. 
WTien the freedom of a kingdom is endangered, patriots 
are awake to every sign of increased power. These are 
not tremors of cowardice, but salutary precautions of pru- 
dence and benevolence. It is because we are not igno- 
rant of Satan's devices, that we maintain an equal vigi- 
lance against our spiritual adversaries. Snares are 
harmless when discovered, and "in vain is the net 
spread in the sight of any bird." 

But it is not enough to be aware of danger in general ; 
we must know from what quarter and in what particular 
form to expect it. If infidelity made its first demon- 
strations in all the dark and bloody colours of downright 
atheism and licentiousness, it would never show a con- 
vert. It is the very insidiousness of the approach which 
magnifies our peril. Hence our first duty is to know 
the enemy, and if possible to know his most covert ad- 
vances. We must learn to pull off masks and see 
3 



34 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

througli disguises, to distrust honeyed words, and fear 
our foes even when they come bearing gifts. This im- 
pHes a sufficient acquaintance with the whole system of 
positive truth to know when any part of it is attacked, 
and then information as to the ways in which those at- 
tacks are hkely to be made. Among the multitude of 
books, public jom'nals, orations, lectures, sermons, poems, 
and common talk, in which we live, there are every day 
some which propose antichristian opinions. As truth 
is one and error manifold, no human faculty can fore- 
see the precise mode in which falsehood will be pre- 
sented by a wily foe ; and therefore the grand safeguard, 
as we shall see, is a knowledge of the truth. But sub- 
sidiary to this is a watchful scrutiny of every principle 
which assaults or undermines any particular doctrine of 
God. These false teachings often begin far away from 
the point at which they really aim ; but such is the 
contexture and harmony of the Divine system, that it 
begins to give way upon the surrender of any leading 
propositions. Those wretched persons who, from being 
speculative Christians, have become atheists, arrived at 
this catastrophe by a series of acts. Nemo rejpentefidt 
turpissimus. Hence the need of watching the earliest, 
slightest symptoms of the disease. Our danger is all 
the greater in proportion as we have allowed the close 
and thorough religious instruction of households to fall 
into desuetude. There are many among us who read 
abundance of books, but among them so little of Chris- 
tian theology, that they do not even recognise the deadly 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 35 

sentiments of the worst systems, if offered to them with 
prettiness of diction, cant phrases, pretension to phi- 
losophy, and the romided voice of a popular lecturer. 

The devices of falsehood are Protean. Let me cull 
out of a wide field of tares a handful for a sample. And 
for reasons abeady given we must include errors which 
echo from pulpits as well as from liberal clubs. Be on 
your guard then, brethren, against the doctrine of man's 
irresponsibility for his belief. As soon as you have 
opened your mind to this pregnant tenet, you have ad- 
mitted within your waUs a Trojan horse, fraught with 
enemies to consume both hearth and altar. Por such 
is the blinding influence of sin, that you have only to 
make a man wicked enough, to make him capable 
of believing any thing, even that there is no harm in 
murder and voluptuousness, or that there is no God. 
Yet this is a popular doctrine of the age, the entering 
wedge which shall rend the entire evangelical fabric. 
Keep a watch against the absurd dogma, that man is 
the creature of circumstances ; so that every human 
soul is in opinion and character just what the things 
aromid him necessitate him to be, and hence not re- 
sponsible for the vileness or the crime which he could 
by no possibility prevent or remove. In this article 
of current unbehef, we have fatalism with a vengeance. 

Shun, as you would sugared arsenic, the shghtest 
suggestion that there are no essential moral distinctions. 
Your arch-poisoner is too crafty to tell you outright that 
there is no difference between right and wrong. But 



36 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

he will sweeten the cup of death with such forms as 
these, that Virtue has no essence but its tendency to 
promote happiness ; or that sin is a very different affair 
when viewed from the side of man and from the side of 
God ; or that God can no more make a universe without 
sin, than two mountains without a valley between ; or 
that vice is no otherwise vice than as it is judged such 
by the conscience. Though the unsuspecting youth 
often receives these, from incapacity to reason far 
enough, he is actually preparing himself for the denial 
of eternal morality. 

Recognise your antichristian enemy, though in gown 
and bands, when he whispers to you that there is no 
punishment after death, a doctrine which is spreading 
like a contagion in city and country. We may trace to 
it the relaxed morals of millions, and the manifest in- 
crease of self-murder, since many a villain would fly to 
the rope if he were delivered from the dread of a here- 
after. 

Guard your soul against the fallacy that there are 
no mysteries in religion, or that no man can beheve 
what is above his understanding. In another place, it 
might be proved that this is as contrary to philosophy 
as to religion; but here we are simply denouncing 
traitors in our camp. 

Above all, fix your eye with detestation on every at- 
tempt to deny or impair the Inspiration of the Scrip- 
tures. This it is, in which all schools of infidehty, an- 
cient and modem, join hands. So long as a man admits 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 3^ 

the plenary inspiration of these books, we have some 
ground common to us and him, and some admitted me- 
dium of proof ; and even though he be in grievous error, 
we may hope to reclaim him. He maybe a Papist, but 
so was Martin Luther; he may be a Socinian, so was 
Thomas Scott. While a man listens to God speaking in 
this Word, the case is not desperate. But how can we 
argue from Scripture with one who holds only so much 
of Scriptm^e to be authoritative as he could have dis- 
covered himself, who selects the parts which he shall 
reject as fable, and who is a Scripture to himself? 
When these, or any of these, or any like these, present 
themselves for your behef, know ye, that yom^ enemy is 
at your door ; be on your guard, and be not ignorant 
of his devices. 

2. The existence of such snares should urge us to 
seek protection against the invasion of falsehood. It is 
not enough to know our enemy even in his feints and 
subterfuges ; to this we must add positive means to escape 
from his devices. All these means come at last to a 
single one, behef of the truth. This, being the exact 
opposite of Infidehty, is incompatible with it, and ex- 
clusive of it. Large and intimate knowledge of divine 
verities, and strong faith in the same, are the only pro- 
tection ; and this is infallible and sovereign, which ought 
to be comforting to those overtasked, feeble, or unlet- 
tered disciples, who cannot read many books, and who 
might otherwise be confounded at the sight of an enemy 
spread on every side, changing his martial columns at 



38 OUR MODERN" UNBELIEF. 

every instant, and seeking entrance at every avenue. 
Thanks be to God ! in order to be an instructed and 
firm Christian, it is not necessary to answer all the ob- 
jections of the freethinker, or even to know them. You 
are not required to soar into the metaphysic of Hegel, 
or plunge into the sty of Epicurus. Divine Truth is 
its own defence. Its system is so compact, ordered, 
symmetrical and harmonious, that it proves itself ; and 
the more you learn of it, the more you find each por- 
tion demonstrative of every other. " He that belie veth 
hath the witness in himself." But for this, the hum- 
ble, unschooled behever would be left to the implicit 
faith of the Papist, for it is obvious he could not 
traverse the encyclopedia of scientific evidence. The 
engines of defence are sublime and impregnable, and 
have proved mighty in the hands of teachers and learn- 
ed champions, to stop the mouths of adversaries. But 
they are not indispensable to the private Christian. His 
demonstration hes nearer home. Cowper felt this, when 
he contrasted Voltaire with the pious lace-weaver, a 
happy, humble woman, who 

'•'Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true, 
" A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew." 

The divine method of arming the soul against sceptical 
attacks, is to shed into it behef of the revealed word by 
the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven. This is ac- 
complished every day in those who never so much as 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 39 

spelled out the names of the great unbelieving authoi^. 
Indeed, even in the case of accomplished theologians, 
who are called professionally, and often with great pain 
to themselves, to turn over volumes of sophism and im- 
piety, in order to frame a reply, the solid confidence of 
which they are conscious is not founded so much on 
these rephes, as on that inward demonstration of the 
Spirit which is common to them and the most unlettered 
hind. Every experienced Christian has proofs of the 
truth, of Christianity, which no external science can 
shake. He is more sure that this Bible is the very word 
of his redeeming God and Father, than he ever can be 
that such or such an assertion of Geology or Astronomy 
is true. And to this interior citadel he continually re- 
sorts, under all the temporary shocks produced by the 
ever changing tactics of infidel discovery. The same is 
true of objections founded on doctrinal difficulties, on 
Scriptural interpretation, on alleged absurdities or con- 
tradictions in the revealed Word. His conviction and 
assurance of the great mass of divine truth is such, that 
he can wait for the resolution of particular doubts, as 
being certain that they admit a solution even if un- 
known to him. True piety teaches him, as clearly as 
does true philosophy, to acquiesce in that golden maxim 
of all healthy minds, not to let doubts about what is 
difficult disturb his belief of what is plain. Some 
indentations of the coast he may never have surveyed, 
he may have found them laid down on no chart ; but 
those great lights and forelands Avhich have guided all 



40 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

his voyage, he will not surrender or deny, because they 
cannot be descried through the clouded glass of the 
scoffer. Such is the protective power of faith under in- 
fidel assault. 

Confirmation of this is afforded by a fact, known to 
.all who are familiar with conversions of unbelievers, that 
these transformations are not commonly wrought by the 
slow process of taking down the infidel structure doubt 
by doubt, and building in its stead the Christian structure 
proof by proof; but that the scoffer is pierced by con- 
viction of his guilt, like any common sinner, and led to 
the Lord Jesus Christ in childlike faith. It is often 
long before his doubts, in their entire series, are sever- 
ally resolved, but the blow has been struck which pros- 
trates the capital unbelief of the heart. 

A deep and thorough acquaintance, therefore, with 
the positive truth of Scripture, followed by cordial and 
evangelical acceptance of it, is the sure bulwark against 
the operations of antichristian error on our own hearts. 

There are, however, as was suggested before, some 
subordinate precautions to be observed. If it is neces- 
sary to have the mind possessed by the truth, it is all- 
important for this end to shut out the inroads of error. 
There is such a thing as foolhardy adventure into an 
enemy's country. Religious falsehood sometimes comes 
in such a shape as to stimulate the curiosity of the un- 
wary, as the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge tempted 
Eve. Sometimes it is the vehicle which is attractive. 
It may be elegant style, it may be romance, it may be 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 4]^ 

closely-knit argumentation, it maybe popular eloquence. 
The union of several such fascinations may invite the 
youthful student to taste the poisonous clusters, and ac- 
quire the taste for doubts and cavils. The most. seduc- 
tive and cunning argument against future retribution, 
which our age has produced, is contained in a poem of 
high talent, which you will find in every shop. The 
name and fame of some great heretical preacher, or some 
orator who delivers infidel sermons under the guise of lec- 
tures to the people, summon numbers of half-instructed 
people, who admire and acquiesce, and go again, not 
knomng, in their simplicity, that the new doctrines which 
they drink in will presently unsettle all the rehgious behef 
of thek childhood. Happier far is the faith of the vulgar, 
than literary advancement, bought at such a price. It is 
a plain maxim of common sense, not to tamper with infec- 
tion ; and he is a fool who, for the mere sake of proving his 
boldness and freedom from bigotry, rushes uncalled into 
the miasmatic influence of false teaching. " Cease, my 
son," says the wise man, " to hear the instruction that 
causeth to err from the words of knowledge." Prov. xix. 
27. "Take heed," said Incarnate Wisdom, "what ye 
hear." The caution which is good for yourself, is good for 
your children and dependents. A little mineral admixture 
in their daily bread, a little morbific quality in their daily 
milk, would be justly dreaded, as tending to wear away the 
health ; yet the daily journal enters your doors, distilHng 
by Httle and httle false, latitudinarian and radical opinions. 
No marvel if you find yom- old age surrounded by sons 



42 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

who have made ship\ATeck of the faith. Christian parents 
and teachers, it is impossible to watch too affectionately 
the literature which comes into the hands of the young. 
If you desire them to be guarded and manly Christians, 
their pabulum must be truth. It is as certain of the 
mind as of the body, that whatsoever is taken into it 
should tend directly to its growth or strength ; all that 
is otherwise, is noxious. Nutrition, moreover, is a grad- 
ual process, the result of repeated acts. If, then, the 
mind and character are to make progress, and acquire 
firmness, there must be not slight and occasional, but 
regular and extensive study of God's revealed will. Nor 
is there a household among us which does not need 
reformation in this particular. Thus, by promoting 
knowledge of truth, and discouraging familiarity Avith 
■falsehood, we may, under God's blessing, do much to 
protect om^selves against abounding infidelity. 

3. In such a time of prevailing error, it becomes us 
to prevent its diffusion in society. Let me not be con- 
sidered an alarmist. There are ten thousand good 
things of which we are altogether undeserving, and for 
which we ought to be giving thanks ; and among these, 
we must reckon numberless Christian churches, com- 
prising a host of God's people. Yet I tell you no new 
thing, my hearers, when I repeat that there is a mixed 
multitude, especially in our towns, who have made 
terms with the enemy and sacrificed their faith. If 
frank Deists and open-mouthed Atheists are less com- 
mon than they were about the beginning of the century ; 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 43 

if, as is undeniable, it is disreputable for a man to attend 
no place of worship ; if society shudders when one dis- 
tinctly condemns or ridicules the Bible ; it is still true 
that disbelief in revelation prevails among a large part 
of our people, including men of letters and science, jour- 
nalists and authors. And the danger is not lessened 
but much increased, when such persons, by a new de- 
vice of Satan, profess to war by our side under the 
standards of Christianity, and even affect to preach 
that Jesus whom they disbelieve and despoil of all his 
glory. Nay more, few who have not made the inquiry 
a special business, have any adequate conception how 
many of another class are professed sceptics or real in- 
fidels ; how many cherish a low and brutal materialism 
and atheism under some names of social reform ; how 
many associations and meetings for debate are kept up 
by these so-called hberals ; how many cheap volumes go 
to swell the black sewers of this underground torrent ; 
and how many newspapers, in German as well as Eng- 
hsh, are more or less characterized by abuse of the 
church, the ministry, and the Bible. Various methods 
may be proposed for stemming, averting and drying up 
this river of death, and no one of them is to be regarded 
with coldness. But after all, the great method, in ac- 
cordance with principles abeady laid down, is to preach 
the gospel and gather the church. Other means, with 
incidental benefit no doubt, tend to diffuse themselves, 
and to be lost by too wide dispersion. The evangehc 
method tends to permanency and settlement. Every 



44 OUK MODERN UNBELIEF. 

missionary effort, rightly conducted, fixes a centre^ 
plants a standard, designates a rallying-point, draws in 
one and another, and at length a group, a society, a 
multitude, builds on a foundation, and binds together 
in a structure which shall abide. Every single church 
gathered in the truth and moved by the Spirit, is a 
permanent and energetic organ for the destruction of 
infidelity around it. Especially true is this among the 
more rude and ignorant, to whom the preacher's voice 
is the instrument of instruction in divine truth, in place 
of printed books, reviews, magazines and religious 
newspapers. One bold and sustained effort to keep up 
gospel means at a fixed point, though among the worst 
dens of a great city or subm'b, shall do more to root out 
impious unbelief in its precincts, than a thousand ran- 
dom assaults on the individuals who are misled and 
corrupted. Such has been the experience of all who 
thus laboured in the mighty work under Wliitefield and 
Wesley. This is our chief hope for populations like our 
own. A single good beginning, in a small circle, does 
a certain amount of this warfare against error, by estab- 
lishing a lasting spring-head of truth and grace. But 
let these isolated posts become only numerous enough, 
and the widening circle of one will touch the widening 
circle of another, till whole districts will be so far occu- 
pied, that the unconquered interstices will be absorbed, 
just as the clearings of the new countries, at first mere 
patches in the forest, few and far between, grow and 
multiply and touch one another, and coalesce into the 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 45 

wide continuous civilization of agricultural territories 
and states. We find, therefore, in the prevalence of in- 
fidelity a new motive to attempt gospel effort. Even 
the freethinking and unbelief of the educated and taste- 
ful will feel the impression of a wide-spread piety among 
the masses. Precisely in the way which has been indi- 
cated did Christianity make its conquest of Gentilism 
in early times. Precisely in this way was the Reforma- 
tion extended among our forefathers. 

But you need not be told, brethren, that Christians 
possess other weapons for the demolition of Infidehty. 
The invention of printing has endowed the silent volume 
with a voice which is heard not only by the assemblage 
of a single edifice, but by tens of thousands at once. 
And when we allude to books against atheism, deism, 
and all varieties of unbelief, we cannot refrain from 
naming one which ought to be known and circulated. 
It has converted more opposers than any other ; it an- 
swers every counter argument, and displays the entire 
force of Christianity. I have it here ; it is the Bible. 
Safely may it be said, that the best possible way to be 
reclaimed from doubt and persuaded of divine certain- 
ties, is to give a serious and candid perusal to this 
portable volume ; just as the surest mode of being 
aware of light is to open the eyes upon the sun. The 
devil, among his arsenal of devices, has this for a mas- 
terpiece, to abstract, close, lock up, forbid, exterminate 
the Bible. Sometimes under a red cap of anarchy, and 
sometimes under a black cowl, he steals away or tears 



46 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 

away the sacred Scriptures, from nations, from schools, 
from individual readers; but we are not ignorant of 
his devices. Let infidelity and superstition and hierar- 
chy, change their tune at pleasure from wheedling to 
fury, we will clasp this book to our hearts, we will send 
it to our neighbour. We will multiply and cheapen 
copies ; we will translate them into every tongue ; we 
will despatch them on the Avings of every commerce ; 
we will carry them as angels of salvation into every 
willing house. Yea, " this will we do if God permit 1" 
And so doing, " we will not fear, though the earth be 
removed and though the mountains be carried into the 
midst of the sea. There is a river, the streams whereof 
shall make glad the city of God." 

Yet, churches and Bibles depend for their efficacy on 
the direct influences of the Holy Sphit, an agency 
which it is part of the reigning infidelity to disbeheve, 
but for which we will pray, as the chief hope of our sal- 
vation. Who can tell how far the revolutionary atheism 
of Prance might have become the established irrehgion 
of America, if it had not pleased God to make our 
country the theatre of mighty and extensive revivals ? 
Perhaps I address some who love to recall these awaken- 
ings, as the scenes in which they were made to know 
Christ. Such will join in testifying, that the pro- 
gress of convincing and converting grace did not wait 
for the tedious preparative of philosophic reply and 
formal argument, but went forth to consume at once 
and forever the difficulties of the sceptic and the cavils of 



OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 4'^ 

the deist, as tlie flame of a conflagration reduces com- 
bustible obstacles in its rapid and blazing career. All 
other means together will not do so much to rid our 
land of antichristian scoffing, as would one general com- 
munication of power from on high. Increased prayer 
for this fresh dispensation is the duty of the Church. 
This is the defensive means which Satan and his hosts 
dread, while they cannot emulate. They can blas- 
pheme, they can argue, they can fight, they can write 
books, and, if need be, quote Scripture for their pur- 
pose; but pray they cannot. Our word should be, 
"Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered; let them 
also that hate him, flee before him." Ps. Ixviii. 1. The 
more we recognise the devices of the enemy, the more 
should we gather around the footstool of Him who will 
shortly bruise Satan under our feet. " In meekness, 
instructing those that oppose themselves ; if God, per- 
adventure, will give them repentance to the acknow- 
ledgment of the truth; and that they may recover 
themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken 
captive by him at his wiU." 



II. 

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 



THE 

DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.^ 



2 Tim. ii. 19. 
He cannot deny himself." 



It is of God that tliese words are spoken; and 
they constitute one of those divine maxims which lie 
among the very fomidations of truth, and are fitted to 
be our guide and corrective in every part of theology. 
The apostle Paul argues, that however we may disbe- 
lieve, God remains faithful, because he cannot deny him- 
self, that is, he cannot be untrue to his own nature. 
This seems plain enough at the first statement^ needing 
no demonstration, a self-evident proposition, almost a 
truism ; yet it admits of being pondered over and un- 
folded ; and it is the more needful to enlarge upon it, 

* New York, December 17, 1848. 



52 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

because in many of its practical applications it is con- 
stantly denied. 

The Being and Attributes of God are the basis of 
all theology. We can never be right on lesser points, 
when Ave are wrong here. This makes it greatly im- 
portant for us to have some clear and settled belief re- 
specting Him whom we worship. Every religious error 
may be traced up more or less directly to some miscon- 
ception and unbelief respecting the character of God. 
And we need the less marvel at the prevalence of such 
errors, when we consider how few deliberately and lov- 
ingly think of God at all, and how even the best and 
holiest of men faint in their contemplations, finding it 
easier to study creatures than the Creator ; which makes 
it a concern of every one of us to attain some adequate 
notions on a subject which is fitted to arrange, preserve 
and regulate all our other knowledge. Let no one 
complain of us as adducing what is abstract, recondite, 
and far from the track of ordinary thought and duty. 
For what can be nearer to us than He who formed us, 
in whom we live and move and have om^ being ? Or 
what can be more profitable than that which has its 
direct bearing on every other part of the Christian 
scheme ? We shall not therefore lose any time, if we 
wisely meditate on this consistency of God with him- 
self, or the adorable harmony of all his perfections. 

The subject will become more distinct, if we con- 
sider the truth, that we are constrained to think of 
God as an infinitely perfect Being. In this the true 



THE DIVINE PEEFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 



53 



God separates himself by an immeasurable gulf from 
all the divinities of polytheism. He is One, and he is 
absolute. When we think of that which has any im- 
perfections, we are not thinking of God. Much of our 
conception of God is arrived at by a negative process ; 
that is, by denying of the Most High every thing which 
is faulty or imperfect. We take those qualities, for ex- 
ample, which are included in our idea of God, and lift 
each of these up to an infinite sublimity. Is it Being ? 
We immediately, justly, and by a sort of logical instinct, 
think of that Being which has no imperfections. It is 
therefore unlimited being, for all limitation implies 
weakness, dependence, or subordination. It is immen- 
sity of being. 'For the same reason it is independent 
being ; because, on whom or what can it depend ? It 
is necessary existence ; God cannot but be, and be what 
he is. In like manner, when we conceive of God as a 
Spirit, and arrive at the apprehension of him as an In- 
telligence, the mind naturally and irresistibly proceeds 
to divest this idea of all the defects and limitations 
which belong to creatures. It is infinite Knowledge, 
supreme Reason, absolute Wisdom. The laws of our 
very thinking demand this. Any thing less than this 
falls short of God. The same mode of illustration 
might be derived from each of the Divine attributes, 
which for this very cause we are accustomed to call per- 
fections. Por if we worshipped a being who had any 
even the least imperfection, then would he not be Su- 
preme, not the Highest and Best ; yet every man is 



54 THE DIYINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

conscious tliat wlien lie is searching for God, if, liaply, 
he may find him, he cannot rest content, except when 
supposing the acme of excellence. Take away any 
the least ray of glory, and it is no longer the deity 
you seek, for above and beyond this limited and imper- 
fect divinity you can conceive of one all perfection ; 
and this is what reason demands in the true God. So 
true is this, namely, that the idea of God includes that 
of infinite perfection, that we perpetually employ it as 
a medium of investigation and a corrective of our con- 
clusions. Having found out a little concerning the 
dread Supreme, we render that little valuable, by de- 
nying of it all imperfection and removing from it all 
boundaries. Let me not be considered abstruse ; for the 
principle alluded to is both important and very precious, 
and is, I am persuaded, level to the ordinary hearer, 
who will yield his attention. We might illustrate it 
by any one of the Divine attributes. Suppose we take 
one of the most undeniable. As soon as we conceive of 
God as the Creator and Preserver of all material nature, 
we attribute to him a presence v/ith all his works. But 
the invincible disposition, just stated, to remove all 
limits and imperfections from God, causes us at once to 
make this presence Omnipresence. There is no point in 
his dominion where he is not. But the same mode of 
reasoning leads us fm^ther still. The presence of crea- 
tures is divisible ; that is, each is partly in one place 
and partly in another ; and the vaster they are, the more 
divisible. Tor example, the solar system is present in 



THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 55 

a certain dimension of space ; but part is here and 
part is there, and between the extremes is a distance 
which, to our poor measurement, seems infinite, as it is 
certainly immense. Not such is the presence of God. 
This mode of presence which we ascribe to the stellar 
universe, has two imperfections ; one from being matter 
and the other from being creature. God is not present 
in any divisible sense, because he is indivisible. He is 
not partly here and partly there -, there is not one part 
of God in heaven and another here and yet another in 
the planet Saturn ; because God is without all parts. 
AYe are forced, therefore, by a necessity of reason, to 
fall upon a new kind of presence, a presence which is 
unique, without example or parallel, to meet the con- 
ditions of Omnipresence. God is then all-present at 
every point of the universe, at one and the same time. 
All there is of God (I speak reverently) is fully in every 
place in his dominions, at one and the same instant ; 
and this because w^e attribute to him the absence of all 
imperfection, such as division would be. So strong is 
our rational determination to abstract all fault and all 
hmit from om- idea of the Most High. This Omni- 
presence of God has its difficulties. Would we desire 
a God whose nature should have no depths ? It is a 
mystery. It transcends our discursive understanding ; 
yet we believe it ; all but Atheists believe it ; we can- 
not but believe it : sound reason compels us to believe, 
however difficult it may be, that of which the contrary 
is self-contradictory or absurd. And let me step aside 



56 THE DIVIXE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

from the direct line of inquiry to say, that sound reason 
in the same way allows us to believe other mysteries 
which we cannot fully comprehend, such as the Trinity 
and the Incarnation. But we return to observe, that 
everywhere in theological science we hold fast to the 
first principle, that nothing must be affirmed of God 
which does not belong to the idea of an infinitely per- 
fect being ; which brings the subject directly under the 
general proposition of the text. He cannot deny him- 
self; he must be true to his nature ; nothing can be 
asserted of him which is inconsistent with absolute 
perfection. 

AVe advance hardly a single step, when we say, that 
all the Attributes of God are in perfect harmony with 
one another. If any one were discordant with the rest, 
or with any other, God would therein deny himself. Our 
best and clearest vieAvs of the Great Supreme are poor 
and inadequate. There is a sublime and absolute sim- 
plicity in God, which we, from weakness, must take 
severally and by parts. Thus, when we survey some 
heavenly orb, no astronomic skill enables us to behold 
it at one view. We wait for its motion, and watch how 
it revolves before us, and catch a glimpse of side after 
side. The ray of light is one; but in the prismatic 
spectrum and in the rainbow, we see it parted into hues ; 
while the violet, the indigo, the blue, the green, the yel- 
low, the orange, and the red, seen dispersed in the 
showery arch, are one sunbeam. So of the infinite and 
primeval Light, all the perfections are glimpses of the 



THE DIYIXE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 



57 



same indivisible unity. All the attributes are phases of 
one and the same Divine orb. The seeming variety, and 
still more, the sometimes seeming contradiction, arise 
from the incapacity of our vision. All are in perfect 
harmony, and whatsoever violates this harmony, by ex- 
alting one attribute at the expense of another, wars with 
the maxim, that he cannot deny himself. This modifi- 
cation in the statement of the great principle allows us 
to apply it to a diversity of interesting particulars. Let 
us briefly make the attempt. And for a beginning, we 
need not go further than the suggestions of the text 
itself. He cannot deny himself. What ! the inconside- 
rate will rejoin ; and is there any thing which God 
cannot do ? He can do all things ; for is he not Om- 
nipotent? Of a truth, God is Omnipotent. At this 
truth we arrive, even by natm'al religion, and on the 
principle already adopted by us, which removes all 
limits and asserts all perfection. So soon as we admit 
a Creator, that is, one of power sufficient to make and 
sustain the Universe, we run on by a happy necessity of 
reason, and ascribe to him all conceivable power. Every 
sane mind, in its reflective moments, does so. Here 
the Christian agrees with the serious Deist. Every 
thing included in power, in infinite power, belongs un- 
deniably to God. This is a fixed point, and whatever 
denies this, errs, by making God deny himself. 

But, does it therefore follow, that in respect to the 
Most High, there is nothing that can be called impossi- 
bility, in any sense ? How prone is poor human under- 



58 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

stall cling to play tricks upon itself, and to involve its 
limited faculties in tlie meshes of entangling words. 
This was the fanlt of the Schoolmen, or Latin theolo- 
gians of the Middle Age. Never were there minds 
more keen and subtle, but they dulled the edge of their 
nice faculties upon questions which are impracticable. 
They debated, for example, whether God could cause 
the same thing to be and not to be, at the same time ; 
whether he could cease to exist ; whether he coidd create 
two mountains without a valley between, or a triangle 
with more or less than three sides. These are the rid- 
dles of childish understanding. When we ascribe power 
to God, we do not mean an attribute which is at war 
with his other perfections ; we mean, as aforesaid, 
nothing incompatible with the sublime and infinite idea. 
God can do all that is properly an object of power. 
Those absurd and contradictory suppositions include no 
object of power. They demand no might, greater or 
less. He who should do them, would be neither stronger 
nor weaker for the achievement. They imply no ex- 
cellence and savour of no perfection. They are incon- 
ceivable ; the mind can frame no notion of what they 
are ; a jargon of words without a sense. There is, 
therefore, that which God cannot do ; because he can- 
not deny himself. 

But some, while they avoid the folly of such de- 
mands as these, fall upon another, less ridiculous, but 
equally full of danger. Because God is almighty, say 
they, he can destroy all the sin and misery in the Uni- 



THE DIYIXE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 



59 



verse ; and therefore, lie will eventually save all mankind, 
and make all creatures happy. I would not introduce 
this, if it were not one of those suggestions wdiich, at 
one time or other, find lodgment in every human mind. 
Here is a strange mixture of truth and falsehood, which 
must be carefully dissected apart. God can do all 
things ; in this wx are perfectly agreed. But it is not 
a just inference, that he will do all that he can. 
Whether, and in what cases, he shall exert his omnipo- 
tence, is to^ be determined by other perfections, which 
he will not and cannot deny. Looking to the future, do 
we ventm'e to predict, that an Omnipotent Creator and 
Governor will make every creature happy ? But if we 
take a point before the creation of man, and suppose an 
angelic spirit to be speculating on the probable fortunes 
of our race, is it not certain that he would have predict- 
ed a world without sin and without misery ? Would he 
not say, the Almighty can prevent the introduction of 
sin, and he will ! Yet, how false w^ould have been such 
a determination ! The answ^er is in the fact. Sin and 
misery do exist. Our earth has been scarred, and bmiit, 
and drenched, by crime, and war, and famine, and pes- 
tilence, and earthquakes. Our faculties are too scanty 
for the resolution of such high problems. That it was 
within the power of God to create a universe into which 
sin could not enter, no sound reasoner can deny. Yet, 
he did create a miiverse into which sin has actually 
entered. He is in no sense the author of that sin ; and 
yet he did not prevent it. Such is the fact. No man 



QO THE DIYIXE PERFECTIONS IX HARMOXY. 

has ever denied it. Must we not conclude, that there 
are hmits, not to the power, but to the exercise of 
power ? The Wisdom, the Hohness, the Justice of 
God, all perfections which must be honoured, came in 
mth awful majesty, to produce results which poor, short- 
sighted man cannot comprehend. He cannot deny 
himself. 

Let us look again at the text, and in regard to the 
same attribute. There are those things which God can- 
not do. As, in another place, '' God, that cannot lie." 
Why not ? Because he is infinitely holy, and infinitely 
true ; because falsehood would militate against these at- 
tributes ; because he cannot deny himself. The ina- 
bility arises from his moral natm^e. He cannot be un- 
true or unholy, because this were to cease to be God. 
Every thing within us rises up against such a supposi- 
tion. The infinite Jehovah, then, has no capacity of evil ; 
and this, from that very perfection of his nature, which 
we love to assert and press. We must beware, there- 
fore, how we lightly ascribe to God those things which 
may suit our narrow prepossessions, lest unwittingly we 
offend against some of his blessed attributes. And 
hence we learn how closely we should adhere to the 
teachings of Scripture, in respect to what God will or 
will not do, in his government or his grace, since we 
know little of his plan and purpose, except what he has 
vouchsafed to express in the Scriptm-es. Secret things 
belong unto God, but such as are revealed unto us 
and our children. And we must continually cherish a 



THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. Ql 

reverent determination to indulge no thought of God, 
which shall be discordant with his glorious and often 
inscrutable perfections. Let it stand high inscribed on 
our whole fabric of derived truth, that he is eternally 
and immutably consistent with himself. 

There are other applications of this cardinal truth, 
which will at once occur to the thoughtful mind. As 
God cannot deny himself, we must shun the error of 
derogating from his Wisdom, Holiness, Truth, and 
Justice, under the pretext of adding lustre to his Mercy. 
A neglect here has led many into grave errors with re- 
gard to Atonement, Satisfaction, and Justification. If 
God were all mercy, no Atonement would be necessary. 
But, " a God all mercy were a God unjust." He is full 
of mercy, and out of this fulness flows the tide of redemp- 
tion ; but in such wise as to preserve the honour of his law 
untarnished. He cannot deny his law ; he cannot deny his 
justice ; he cannot deny his threatenings of truth. Of liis 
infinite compassion, he will save the lost ; but it shall be in 
such a way as shall make his other glories more illustrious. 
It is the subhme necessity of harmonizing these other- 
wise conflicting traits of Divine majesty, which calls for 
the exercise of that grace, " wherein he hath abounded 
toward us in allmsdom and prudence;" "to the intent 
that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly 
places might be known by the Church the manifold wis- 
dom of God." He cannot deny his Wisdom. It is 
made to subserve the vindication of the law. Does a 
bhnd and condemned rebel ask that sinners should be 



62 THE DIYIXE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

pardoned without a satisfaction ? Such is not God's 
method. This were to prostrate Justice and the Law 
in the very dust. How different a course does infinite 
Wisdom prescribe ! How different a lesson do we read 
in the crimson spectacle of the Cross ! ]\Iercy is grati- 
fied, but Justice triumphs, " to the praise of the gloiy 
of the grace wherein we are accepted in the Beloved." 
God denies neither his Justice nor his Mercy. And 
why ? Because the Word is made flesh, and the Only- 
Begotten of the Pather dies upon the tree. " Die he, or 
justice must." And around this awful, fascinating, 
transforming sight, we behold all the attributes in per- 
fect harmony, and God immutably true to himself. The 
principle of the text shines illustriously in the whole 
work of redemption ; and the more we study the char- 
acter of Jehovah, the more shall we learn that the divine 
consistency of this character made it impossible that sin 
should be pardoned, unless Christ should bear " our 
sins in his o^^ti body on the tree." But the same 
union of perfections in the Divine nature presents itself 
in an alarming view, when we consider the condition of 
those who reject God's chosen plan of salvation. The 
soul that passes into eternity without an interest in 
Christ's atoning work, faces the unmitigated blaze of 
vindicatory law. The Cross being neglected, there re- 
mains no more sacrifice for sin. Justice, ]io less than 
mercy, has its place for appropriate triumph. God will 
fulfil his utmost threatenings ; for he cannot deny him- 
self. On whatsoever side, then, we look, we observe 



THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. ^3 

the beautiful and inviolate harmony which subsists 
among all the perfections of God. In conclusion, I 
would point out a few lessons which may be derived 
jfrom the truths on which we have meditated. 

1. The subject aids us to compare and settle our 
minds, in regard to what may be called the difficulties 
of Scripture and theology. These all arise from our ig- 
norance, and our inability to fathom the mysteries of the 
Divine Natm^e. As in oik best estate on earth, '' we 
know in part," and see through a glass darkly, some 
of th^se enigmas must remain unexplained, so long as 
we are in the body. The only part of wisdom is to bow 
with profound reverence to whatever is revealed, even 
though we may be incompetent to reconcile it with other 
truths. ' Thus saith the Lord,' ought to allay all doubts. 
Philosophy has wearied itself for ages, in the attempt to 
reconcile the existence of physical evil with God's holi- 
ness and goodness ; but not the slightest advance has 
been made in the explanation. ' Why did God permit 
the fall ? ' is a question which can never be answered, 
but by humbling our minds before the general consid- 
eration, that divine reasons of state are beyond our ken ; 
that some of God's attributes may demand a course of 
government beyond all our expectation ; that his wis- 
dom is infallible as his love is immense ; and that what- 
ever he ordains or allows, is agreeable to the concord of 
those perfections which we at awful distance revere and 
worship. The same is true with regard to the fearful 
doom of the wicked. The finally impenitent shall go 



64 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

away into everlasting fire, prepared for tlie devil and his 
angels. The smoke of their torment goeth up forever 
and ever. We are incompetent to decide on the grounds 
of this undeniable sentence ; just as we are unable to 
explain the incalculable amount of sin and misery now 
actually existing on earth. We do not comprehend the 
infinite depths of evil there are in sin ; we cannot esti- 
mate the glory which shall redound to God from the 
never-ceasing display of his inflexible justice ; Ave know 
not how far such an exhibition of wrath may tend to 
the increased sum of happiness, in all the remaining in- 
telligent universe. The problem will one day be solved. 
What we know not now, we shall know hereafter. This 
and all inscrutable facts and doctrines shall be seen to 
have their ground in some perfection of God, or in the 
harmony of all his perfections. We may safely leave the 
matter in such hands. God is love ; and there is no 
one of his decrees which is not prompted by infinite 
benevolence. We may not see the connexion or con- 
sistency, in all cases, but this is conclusive — He cannot 
deny himself. 

2. The truth we have been considering, may en- 
courage us to commit the whole matter of our salvation 
to God with implicit confidence. A man needs a strong 
foundation on which to lean his everlasting interests. 
Ordinary secmities will not avail here'. When storms 
assail our hope, and unnumbered sins arise to irritate 
our conscience, and the dreadful justice of God is array- 
ed against us, especially if all this happens when death 



THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. ^5 

is in view, we need something more than vague expec- 
tation or mere probability. The true basis of trust is 
found in the character of God ; and this is all-sufficient. 
It is the part of revelation to make this known to us. 
It is the part of faith to rely upon it. The constancy 
and immutability of God are the ground of our security. 
If he were changeful, the Universe would be a hell. 
How ready we should be to fly into despair or madness, 
if the God in whom we trust were uncertain and capri- 
cious, Hke the divinities of the Gentiles ? But he says, 
"I am Jehovah, I change not, therefore ye sons of 
Jacob are not consumed." * So changeable and capri- 
cious are we, that if our salvation depended on om' 
abiding constant for an hour, we should inevitably be 
lost. But though we " believe not," or are unfaithful, 
he is faithful. Especially may we rely on his covenant 
engagements, from which he will not draw back. His 
truth is confirmed by repeated asseverations ; " wherein 
God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of 
promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by 
an oath ; that by two immutable things, in which it was 
impossible for God to he, we might have a strong con- 
solation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the 
hope set before us." How refreshing is it, to look away 
from the endless vicissitudes of our own hearts, which 
ebb and flow hke the sea, and wax and wane like the 
moon, to Him who is immutable, and whose decrees of 

* Mai. iii. 6. 



55 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

love are as firm as his very being. In disheartening 
hours, our greatest repose is obtained, by hfting the soul 
to One who in Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to- 
day and forever. I put it to Christian hearers, above 
all, to such as are habitually prone to write bitter things 
against themselves, whether they are not more ready to 
ascribe constancy and immutability to God's justice, 
than to his grace. Yet, he can no more be unfaithful 
to one than to the other. Only make sure of an inter- 
est in his covenant, by connexion with the Lord Jesus 
Christ, and your salvation is as firm as the throne of 
eternity. We read the threatenings, and quake because 
He is unchangeable. Let us read the promises, and be- 
lieve that heaven and earth shall pass away, before one 
jot or one tittle of his gracious engagements shall fail. 
He cannot deny himself; he cannot deny his Son. We 
have a Surety, in his nature and in ours, who shall make 
good every article of the eternal treaty. And how re- 
splendent will this glory of grace shine forth in " that 
day," when the elect jewels shall be made up, without 
one loss, even of the faintest creature who ever beheved, 
and when every vault of the heavenly city shall ring 
to the honour of Him who is forever true to his own 
nature ! 

3. Li every moment of hfe, we learn from this sub- 
ject to look up to the harmonious attributes of God, 
with profound adoration and lively affection. The ob- 
ject is glorious, and, above all others, deserves our con- 
templation. He is one and the same. The changes of 



THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. Q^ 

time and creatures are but the trifling waves which 
keep up their noisy flow at the base of this Eternal Rock. 
He was infinitely true to himself before time began ; 
such will he be when time shall be no more. Every 
one of those adorable perfections remains in plenitude 
of majesty, and all in blissful concord with each other. 
" He is the Rock, his work is perfect : for all his ways are 
judgment : a God of truth, and without iniquity : just 
and right is he ! " There are times when the wavering 
soul needs recom^se to such thoughts. There are wars 
and tumults among the people. Nation rises against 
nation. Iniquity abounds, and the love of many waxes 
cold. The cause of truth and righteousness seems to 
tremble ; and unbelief suggests that the plan of heaven 
has changed or been frustrated. But all these muta- 
tions are but a faint ripple on the surface of the sea of 
things. "The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice." 
The principles of his government are more settled than 
the everlasting mountains. " The Lord sitteth upon 
the flood ; yea, the Lord sitteth king forever." Great 
calamities startle a whole population, A gallant ship is 
labouring in the tempestuous deep. Stout-hearted men 
quiver with apprehension ; veterans who have stood at 
the cannon's mouth yield to awe before the raging ele- 
ments, and the cry of panic-struck women and children 
ascends amidst the crash of timbers and the ruthless 
braAvling of the storm. . The mountain biUow makes its 
clear sweep over the deck, and whole bands plunge 
through the wintry, strangling surge, into eternity. 



58 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 

Has God closed his eyes upon his creatures ? Nay, 
bhnd insect of y^terday -, it is He who orders all. He 
is true to his justice, and true to his mercy. " Thy 
throne is estabhshed of old, thou art from everlasting. 
The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lift- 
ed up their voice ; the floods lift up their waves. The 
Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, 
yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." However he 
may send the stroke of death, which he sends to all, 
"just and right is he ! '' He cannot deny himself. Be 
this our anchor, when in regard to our own little per- 
sonal affairs, the billows threaten to overwhelm us. 
They cannot reach the throne of om' God, nor change 
the settled purposes of his love. Clouds and darkness 
are round about him, but righteousness and justice are 
the habitation of his throne. Sometimes, if we could 
look into his heart, we should discern paternal compas- 
sion behind the lifted rod. Let us rejoice that he is, 
and such as he is. Let us glory that he changeth not. 
Let us summon om- thoughts away from all creatures 
and all second causes, to dwell on the throne that cannot 
be moved. Though all else fail, it is weU with us if 
God remains. See to it that he is yours. Hazard not 
the consequences of being found in the way of his ad- 
vancing vengeance. His covenant of grace is sure, but 
his justice is as irrevocable as his love is fathomless. 
Now, in this temporal state, the ofier is made, to change 
our relation, and from enemies to become friends. But 
presently, a trumpet shall sound, to tell that parley is 



THE DIYINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 



69 



over, and that what remains is arrest, adjudication, 
doom ! O, saint ! O, sinner ! in that hour, it is near, 
heaven will stand vindicated, thy destiny sealed, thy 
heaven or hell made eternal. Por he cannot deny 
himself ! 



III. 

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 



DIVINE PEOVIDENCE IN PAKTICULARS.* 



Matthew x. 30. 
"But the very hairs of your head are all numbered." 

The subject to be treated from these words is that 
of a particular providence. And by a particular provi- 
dence, we mean a divine care, unceasingly bestowed on 
all creatures and aU their actions ; on things heavenly 
and things sublunary ; whether small or great, whether 
good or evil; whether natural or moral; whether 
necessary or free ; so that nothing can occur in the 
universe which is not immediately governed by Om- 
nipotence. The Epicureans feigned a deity who takes 
no cognizance of creatures. The followers of Aristotle 
seem to have confined the divine regards only to celes- 
tial things. The Pelagians withdraw from the rule of 

* Princeton, January 2, 1855, 



74 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

God all free actions of moral beings ; and men of the 
world, professing no philosophical creed in particular, 
entertain a vague notion of some general oversight 
which the Supreme Intelligence exercises since creation, 
while they practically deny any such special care as we 
have just asserted. It is of vast importance that our 
minds be firmly settled on this fundamental point. 
Generalities will not sufiice, when we sustain the shock 
of great and sudden afflictions. As the doctrine of 
chance is the most absurd and cheerless of aU human 
tenets, so any approach to it, by withdrawing a part of 
all events from the circle of God's plan, tends to hesita- 
tion, darkness, and misery. Tor which part shall we so 
withdraw ? What objects and what acts shall we aban- 
don to the fortuitous concussion of circumstances ? Or 
if this could be determined, how shall we be assured 
that the particulars in which we affirm God to have no 
concern, are not the very ones on which our highest 
happiness hinges ? In opposition to all such irrational 
hypotheses, we maintain that he who firmly believes in 
a universal providence, extending to every hair, and 
who feels accordingly, has arrived at the true secret of 
a happy life. 

We argue a particular providence fi^om a particular 
creation. That which God has deigned to make, he will 
condescend to care for ; and that which he has made in 
aU its minutest details, he may, without derogation fi-om 
his infinite majesty, continue to sustain and govern even 
in its least members and motions. The instance 



DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 75 

chosen by our Lord is among the most Kght and impalpa- 
ble of all objects connected with the human frame. Yet, 
under the glass of the microscopic anatomist, the single 
hair presents wonders of structure and adaptation which 
no human hand can reproduce or imitate. Indeed, the 
further down we go into the interior recesses of nature, 
all invisible to the naked eye, the more amazing become 
the revelations of power, and skill, and goodness. So 
that the very antennae of the fly that annoys our slum- 
ber, the dust of the downy fruit, and the volatile pollen 
of the lily or the rose, awaken new adoration of Him 
who is maximus in minimis, greatest in that which seems 
least. Take any inch-square of the ground we tread 
on ; and to the eye of reverent science, it is a world 
teeming with wonders. Nor do we observe any tend- 
ency to a termination of these wonders, or any hmit of 
this creative ingenuity, though we press our investiga- 
tion to the utmost length which adventurous observation 
can reach with its most elaborate, costly, and recent ap- 
pliances. The finger of Omnipotence is still before us ; 
tracing contours of beauty, adding lustrous hues far 
beyond the reach of human gaze, weaving tissues, con- 
veying tides of circulation, and adjusting forces with 
mathematical exactness, in the filament of the tiniest 
floweret, and the organ of the evanescent animalcule. 
Now, that which it was not unworthy of creative power 
to make, it is not unworthy of providential care to up- 
hold and govern. Our scale of measurement on this 
subject is arbitrary and partial. We know little of 



76 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

great or small, as applied to the works of the Almighty. 
In his eye, there may be as much value in the Hving 
mote, that scarcely darkens our vision, as in the levia- 
than of the hoary waters. And here, let me deviate, if 
it be not in the direct line of our argument, to expose 
the emptiness of that flippant reasoning of half-philoso- 
phy, which sometimes makes bold to jeer at om* doc- 
trine, that all things were made for some good end. 
These laughing sages demand of us for what purpose 
the contemptible insect, which flits across our path or 
alights on our persons, was created. Let it be a suc- 
cessful and triumphant reply to ignorant and imperti- 
nent scofiing, that an infinitely benevolent Creator, be- 
sides other reasons unknown to us, has had suflicient 
reason for the production of wondrous living mechan- 
isms, in the securing of happiness to the being itself, 
which thus stands forth as a small but animated argu- 
ment of the divine goodness. On this point, I gladly 
borrow from the sometimes erroneous, but, here, incom- 
parable Paley : " The air, the earth, the water, teem with 
dehghted existence. In a spring noon, or a summer 
evening, on whichever side I turn my eyes, myriads of 
happy beings crowd upon my view. ' The insect youth 
are on the wing.' Swarms of new-born flies are trying 
their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions, their 
wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity, their continual 
change of place without use or pm-pose, testify their 
joy, and the exultation which they feel in their lately 
discovered faculties. A bee amongst the flowers in 



DIVIXE PROYIDEXCE IN PARTICULARS. 77 

spring, is one of the most cheerful objects that can he 
looked upon. Its hfe appears to be all enjoyment : so 
busy and so pleased ; yet it is only a specimen of insect 
life, with which, by reason of the animal being half do- 
mesticated, we happen to be better acquainted than vre 
are with that of others. The whole winged insect tribe, 
it is probable, are equally intent upon their proper em- 
ployments ; and, under every variety of constitution, gra- 
tified, and perhaps equally gratified, by the offices which 
the Author of their nature has assigned to them/' — 
" Walking by the sea-side, in a calm evening, upon a 
sandy shore, and with an ebbing tide, I have frequent- 
ly remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, or rather 
very thick mist, hanging over the edge of the water, to 
the height perhaps of half a yard, and of the breadth of 
two or three yards, stretching along the coast as far as 
the eye could reach, and always retiring with the water. 
When this cloud came to be examined, it proved to be 
nothing else than so much space, filled vdih young 
shrimps, in the act of bomiding into the air from the 
shallow margin of the water, or from the wet sand. If 
any motion of a mute animal could express delight, it 
was this ; if they had meant to make signs of their hap- 
piness, they could not have done it more intelligibly, 
Suppose, then, what I have no doubt of, each individual 
of this number to be in a state of positive enjoyment, 
what a sum, collectively, of gratification and pleasm^e 
have we here before our view." * 

* Natural Theology. 



78 DIVINE PROYIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

In conformity witli this, we believe with pleasure 
that whatsoever God has made, even to the smallest de- 
tails, he continues to preserve and regulate. Provi- 
dence has sometimes been considered as a continued 
creation; but more properly, as the constant will of 
God to maintain the being of that which he has created. 
Por there is no innate power of self-sustentation in the 
creature ; and if God were to withdraw his poAver, all 
that he has made would collapse into its original nothing. 
Being is too subhme an endoA^anent to own any other 
source, even for an instant, than that which first gave 
it. We are to look on nature in its minutest varieties, 
and having God perpetually standing by it, upholding 
and guiding. In this there is nothing low and nothing 
wearisome. Omnipotence is equally unexhausted in 
driving whole stellar systems through their awful incal- 
culable trajectories, and in supporting the gossamer that 
floats over our autumnal fields. The reason of creation 
thus becomes the reason of providence, and we exult in 
the truth, as sublime as it is consolatory, that the hairs 
of our head are all numbered. 

After this preamble, we argue particular providence 
from the express teachings of Scripture. Here it wiU 
be necessary to use selection. Phst, we open upon pas- 
sages wliich ascribe to God the wielding and governance 
of aU things in general. As where Nehemiah prays : 
ix. 6, " Thou, even thou, art Jehovah alone ; thou hast 
made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with aU their host, 
the earth and all things therein, and thou preservest 



DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULAES. 79 

them all." As when Paul, at the Areopagus, challeng- 
mg the assent of even a heathen auditory, says, " Though 
he be not far from every one of us ; for in him v^e live, 
and move, and have our being." As when, Heb. i. 3, 
the Son of God is represented as " upholding all things 
by the word of his power." But passages of this sort 
are numerous and familiar. Next we meet with places 
where this very particularity of providence is explicitly 
asserted. Thus the smallest as well as the greatest ob- 
jects are referred to his care ; as in our text, and in that 
beautiful and parallel instance, " Are not two sparrows 
sold for a farthing ? and one of them shall not fall on 
the ground without your Father." Or, where he chides 
the distrust of disciples as to food and raiment, by 
pointing to hlies and birds, arrayed and fed by God ; 
in other words, the objects of his careful providence. 
The very insects, used by the sceptic for his ill-timed 
jests, were fearfully employed in vengeance among the 
plagues of Egypt ; and at a later day, the locust, the 
palmer- worm and the caterpillar, are marshalled by him 
in battle-array against a guilty land, while he says, Joel 
ii. 11, " And Jehovah shall utter his voice before his 
army ; for his camp is very great." 

But this Providence of God includes in its range a 
nobler class of creatures, even those which are rational 
and immortal. These, with all their thoughts, affec- 
tions, and acts, are parts of his marvellous plan. In- 
deed, if these were excluded, there could be nothing in 
the doctrine of Providence which could afford us any 



80 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

contentment. It were a mockery to tell ns that we 
sliould have safety by the hand of Omnipotence, m re- 
gard to the powers of irrational nature ; but that in all 
that concerns the free or the wicked actions of men, we 
must rely on ourselves or on chance. It were a crippled 
and insufficient providence which should guard me 
against the serpent or the tornado, but which should 
leave me to myself the moment a moral and responsible 
agent came upon the stage. Yet, this is the strange, 
imcomfortable doctrine which prompts the language 
heard in many a Christian circle. Which of us has not 
listened to such words as these? "I could bear this 
trial, if it were ordered of God, but it proceeds from 
man. It is not providential, but from wicked human 
beings." There is in this a sad confusion. Such a 
government as is here assumed, would be no providence 
at all ; and would render all rule impossible, as exclud- 
ing those very agencies which are most important. And 
I return to say, that the Bible teaches no such doctrine. 
While it abhors the thought of making God the author 
of sin, it does not exclude sinful acts from his Avise and 
holy plan. While it evermore denies God's participa- 
tion in the evil of wicked deeds, it still asserts, that in 
the directing and governing of such deeds, there is a 
sovereign providence, working out its own wise and 
holy ends. " Man's goings are of the Lord ; how then 
can a man understand his own way ? " "A man's heart 
deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps." 
The wrath of man shall praise him, and the remainder 



DIYINE PKOVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 3]^ 

of wrath He will restrain. Let it be clearly fixed in 
our minds, as tlie only true pMosopliy of this subject, 
that an act may be wicked, as to the intent of its agent, 
and yet its result may be really intended by God. 
Were it not so, we could have no relief under our worst 
sufferings, namely, those which we endure from depraved 
and malignant human creatures. But these also are 
providential. Joseph's brethren committed a great sin. 
This none can deny, so far as they were concerned. 
Yet was it strictly and particularly providential : " So 
now it was not you that sent me hither, but God." 
" God did send me before you to preserve hfe." " Ye 
thought evil against me, but God meant it unto good." 
Here is particular providence, in regard to free and 
wicked acts. Other instances in point will occm- to the 
memory of the scriptural student. Especially the great 
and striking case of our Lord's arrest and death ; in- 
tensely wicked as to its free perpetrators, yet a part of 
God's pro^ddential scheme for the salvation of mankind. 
We cannot on any principle of reason escape fi'om this 
great and most consolatory truth. The dependence of 
the creature upon the Creator enforces it. As man is 
suspended absolutely on God for his being and his life, 
so also is he dependent on him for his power to act, and 
for the acts themselves. If for the body, then yet more 
for the soul, the nobler part. Conceive of a being inde- 
pendent of God in acting, and you infer a being inde- 
pendent also in essence. But if he is dependent, then 
is he in all his actions brought mthin the circle of prov- 
6 



82 DIVINE PKOYIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

idential ordering. And surely there can be derived 
neither peace nor profit from the doctrine, that a large 
part of human acts, many of which most nearly concern 
us, are performed without God's knowledge, which were 
to deny omniscience ; or, without his caring for them, 
which were to deny his love ; or, without his power to 
prevent them, which were to deny his omnipotence. 
Yet, this is the doctrine of the Epicurean, of the world, 
and of many who suppose themselves to be Cluistians. 
As none but infidels deny all providence outright — 
a truth which forces the assent of the sober Deist — the 
usual method of error is to admit some general care 
of the universe, but to deny such care as extends to 
minute particulars. And this misconception is widely 
prevalent among superficial thinkers. Now, not to re- 
peat what has been abeady urged, that in the sense in- 
tended there is with God neither great nor small, and 
that there is to the Almighty no degradation, nor weari- 
ness, nor waste of power, in caring for the sparrow, the 
hair or the atom, I would bring it before the serious 
consideration of doubters, that their tenet is destructive 
of all providence whatever ; and that if there is no par- 
ticular pro^ddence, there can be none at all. General 
pro\ddence infers that which is particular. For, surely 
these deniers do not mean to tell us, that God singles 
out the great acts of the universe and the world's his- 
tory, and neglects the small. In this case, the small 
must after all be considered in the divine prescience, in 
order that they may be left out. The meaning, per- 



DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. §3 

haps, is, that Divine wisdom fixes and decrees the grand 
and momentous events in history, but fixes not minor 
and intermediate points. But look a Httle more close- 
ly, and you will perceive, that those momentous points 
are caused and determined by these which are smaller. 
The most astonishing changes in human things, which 
have rent empires, and made the world ring for ages, 
have depended on the most trifling occmTences, and 
but for these would not, and could not have been. Did 
Providence then secure the great event, and leave its 
proximate causes to be settled by chance, or not settled 
at all ? The rise and fortunes of Moses occupy a just 
eminence, as connected vdth' the destiny of a people still 
subsisting. Was there, or was there not, a providence 
in the fact that the princess of Egypt, at a certain hour, 
spied that wicker cradle upon the Nile ? It was a grand 
event, that Christianity should be carried to Ethiopia. 
Was there any providence in the meeting of Phihp and 
the treasurer of Queen Candace, on the road to Gaza ? 
The death of Juhus Cesar is one of the capital events in 
human annals. Was there a providence in the great 
man's failing to read the scroll of papyrus, handed to 
him in the crowd, and which would have revealed to 
him the conspiracy ? Nay, each of us, in his o^m little 
life, can recount incidents, trivial in themselves, yet di- 
rectly conducive and even necessary to the occmTcnce 
of what has given colour to om^ whole subsequent ex- 
istence. The truth is, general providence is only the 
sum of particular providences, as every whole is but an 



84 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

aggregation of its several parts. And lie who speaks of 
a providential plan, so general as to exclude details and 
minutiae, utters he knows not what, and professes what 
he cannot expound even to his own conceptions. Let 
us, therefore, reverently and delightedly, come back to 
the doctrine of our childish days, which is at the same 
time a conclusion of the profoundest philosophy, that all 
events, even the smallest, fall out according to the com- 
prehensive and well-ordered plan of a sleepless benig- 
nant and all- wise Ruler, who doeth his pleasure in the ar- 
mies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth. 
How beautifully this shines out in the records of the 
Scriptures ; making them herein differ strikingly from 
all other annals ! This clew wiU often guide us through 
the mazes of an otherwise inexplicable narrative. This 
will often explain to us, why some things are given in 
great detail, while others are passed over in silence. 
Por, the accounts given in Scripture are the history, not 
so much of the intentions of man, as of the plans of 
God. Especially in the vernal sunshine of patriarchal 
days, we behold God's hand, we feel his presence, we 
admit his agency, at every turn. And all the way 
through the tangled web of Judaic history, it is Jehovah 
who is the planner, it is Jehovah who is the hero of the 
story. Well were it for each of us, if we could transfer 
this spirit of the Bible to the explanation of our own 
lives. It would clear up many a day of clouds, and 
solve many an enigma. In this belief, I dare not close 
without certain practical conclusions from truths, I trust, 



DIVINE PROYIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 35 

sufficiently established. We may sin against the doc- 
trine of a particular providence in several ways. 

In regard to the past, we may offend by repining, 
or quarrelHng with providence. It is one of our daily 
and most heinous transgressions, excluding the thought of 
God's wise and beneficent rule from the events of our 
common days. The sin of murmuring was the fatal ini- 
quity of Israel in the vtdlderness. It should be enough 
to reconcile us to every event, that it befals us agreeably 
to the wisdom and justice and mercy of God. What 
misery, what weakness, what consumption of health, 
what decay of spirits, what paralysis of effort, what 
sourness and morose care, might have been avoided, if 
we had learnt to live in a continual submission to Provi- 
dence, as to every particular of our lives. " Lord, in- 
crease our faith ! " 

Akin to this is despair, when there seems to be no 
outlet from our troubles. It may befit a Cain, a Saul, 
or a Judas ; but not a child of God. If time had al- 
lowed, I might have shown how Providence, under a 
special covenant, concerns itself for those who shall be 
heirs of salvation. The lessons of our Lord, already 
cited, go to forbid this undue despondency. Hard as 
it may be for unaided nature, it is the prerogative of 
grace, when the night is darkest and most dreary, not 
only to submit to what is sent, but to trust and hope in 
God for the future ; and there is a blessing on such ex- 
ercises of soul. Distrust of Providence imphes an ac- 



80 DIYINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

tual disbelief of God's rule and disposal of the events 
which concern us. 

Another sin is the imputing of our sins to God, 
which is a horrible abuse of the doctrine of Providence. 
The metaphysics of this subject may be difficult, and 
we are not called upon to resolve all the doubts which 
may be raised by an ingenious and perverse reason ; but 
a few undeniable truths stand out in fire, like light- 
houses flaming along a tempestuous coast. Whatever 
we know not, we do know that the Judge of all the 
earth will do right ; that God cannot be tempted of 
evil, neither tempteth he any man ; that while he per- 
mits sin, bounds it, and overrules it, he is infinitely 
remote from being its cause, and from participating in 
its malign quality ; that, as all good is from above, so 
all the evil of our misdeeds is from ourselves. These 
plain and admitted truths should rise fully before us, 
when at any time we are tempted "to charge God fool- 
ishly. 

Again, there is a pen^ersion which turns providence 
into fate, and professes to hope for results without 
using means. Whatever is to be, will be — ^is the fa- 
miliar maxim of the profane and superficial fatalist; 
often upon the hps of those who have no real belief in 
providence. Wise men know that he who orders the 
end, orders also the means, and that the means are made 
necessary to the end by the decree of God himself. 
Providence is itseK a system, regularly working by a 
chain of means, in the order of cause and effect. 



DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 37 

Providence does not ensure the result in spite of neg- 
lects and omissions, but by ensuring the means required. 
Where any man, whether from fatalism or indolence, 
omits the performance of his part, providence then goes 
on its stately march to produce the failure of the end. 
Hence the sin of presmnption is chargeable on such as 
rush on dangers, imcalled, in the profane expectation of 
safety or dehverance. " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord 
thy God." In things temporal, and in * those which 
concern our personal salvation, we abuse providence 
when we neglect the diligent use of those instrumental- 
ities which God has ordained. 

Prone to extremes, however, sinful human nature 
sometimes speeds to the very opposite, and relies im- 
plicitly on second causes. This is the reigning sin of 
the busy world. It becomes flagrant in many, who, 
after long prosperity, come to ascribe all their success to 
their ovm endeavom^s, forget the hand which has sus- 
tained and supported them, and mentally expel the God 
of Providence from his own dominions. Such are the 
sons of wealth, who fear no reverses, give no thanks, 
expect largely from self, or, as they speak, from luck, 
and mean to be happy in spite of God. There may be 
cases in which they have their good things in this 
world, feel no bands in their death, and expire as they 
have lived. But it is very common for a holy and just 
God, by some stroke of his judgment on body, reason, 
family, reputation, or estate, to show such persons, as 
he did Nebuchadnezzar, that " the Heavens do rule." 



88 DIVIXE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 

We shall best avoid these various errors, by establish- 
ing our minds on a thorough persuasion of God's all- 
pervading, all-embracing providence. And happy 
should I be, my brethren, if the words now spoken 
should prove seasonable to any one who has come to 
this house overbm^dened with care. To such a heart 
the blessed assurance of the text, carried home by the 
Spirit of grace, will become a sovereign balm. The 
bitterness of our griefs arises from our denying or for- 
getting, that whatsoever hes heavy on our lot is laid 
there by the hand of Him who is ordering all things 
for our good. However vexing may be the annoyances 
of om^ pilgrim state, the loving soul can bear much from 
the hand of a compassionate Creator and Redeemer. 
These unwelcome visitations are intended to bring us 
to right views of God's government of aU things for 
his people. Is the trouble past ? It is the Lord 
who hath done it ; let him do as seemeth him good ! 
Be stiU, and know that he is God. Is it present? 
Own the chastening of a present God, who doeth all 
things well, and who is near you, to bring good out of 
evil. Is it future ? Take no anxious thought for the 
morrow. He who plans in msdom and executes in 
power, is your Keeper, your Shield, and your exceeding 
great Reward. Nothing is too hard for his might; 
nothing too little for his condescension. The very 
hairs of your head are aU numbered. Apply this to 
the ckcumstances of this very day and horn: ; apply it 
.to those second causes, which, to a vainly-wise unbelief 



DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. gg 

often seem too insignificant to be brought to the foot of 
the infinite throne. You may use a child-hke confi- 
dence in coming to your Pather in heaven ; you may 
unbosom before him your smallest disquietudes. The 
thorn in the traveller's foot is sometimes grievous as the 
sword of an adversary. The strongest Christians are 
those who, from holy habit, hasten with every thing to 
God. Summon this doctrine to your aid, not merely 
when the'weightier class of calamities oppress you ; but 
amidst the perturbations of ordmary life, the collisions 
of business, the perplexities of the household, the muta- 
tions of health and sphits, nay the clouds of the sky, 
which too often carry darkness into the windows of the 
shrinking and sensitive soul. The very moods which 
make our wheels drag slowly through the daily task, 
the tempers of those around us, the petty disappoint- 
ment and chagrin, the shght, the cross, the look of un- 
kindness and the silence of rebuke — all are dispensed 
in season and in love. Happy is the soul which, havmg 
secured an interest in providence by securing accept- 
ance in Christ, can roll its burden on the Lord and He 
down secm-e amidst the tempest, because its Father is 
at the helm. 



IV 



THE INCAENATION 



THE INCARNATION* 



1 Timothy iii. 16, 
" God was manifest in the flesh." 

" The Catliolic faith, is this, that we worship one 
God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity; neither confound- 
ing the persons, nor dividing the substance." 

" Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, is 
God and man ; God of the substance of the Father, 
begotten before the world ; and Man of the substance 
of his mother, bom in the world. Perfect God and 
perfect Man ; of a reasonable soul, and human flesh sub- 
sisting ; equal to the Father as touching his Godhead, 
and inferior to the Father as touching his manhood. 
Who, although he be God and Man, yet he is not two, 
but one Christ." 

* New York, February 11, 1849. 



94 THE INCARNATION. 

These are formulas which some will not pronounce, 
who nevertheless vaunt their belief of " God in Christ." 
Our present task is not to prove or even to illustrate the 
Incarnation, but only to look at one of its aspects, to 
wit, the manifesting of God. In plainer terms, the 
question is. How God's becoming man brings God 
any nearer to our understandings and our hearts. And 
in this inquiry we shall be led to the result, that by the 
humanity of Christ the Divine Nature is brought more 
Avithin the reach of our understanding and our affections. 
But as these two branches of the subject are large and 
distinct, they may be properly treated in succession. 
Accordingly, our first topic is this, that by the Incarna- 
tion God is brought near to om- imderstanding ; and 
the second, that, by the Incarnation, God is brought 
near to our affections. 

I. By the Incarnation, God is brought near to our 
understanding. We know more of God, by this means, 
than we could ever have known without it. We are 
no more able than before to grasp the infinite, or com- 
prehend the incomprehensible, or measure the immense, 
or see the invisible ; yet these diving and unapproach- 
able perfections are brought into such connections with 
humanity as to furnish us with some steps by which to 
chmb up towards the height of these glories ; to acquire 
some ideas, though inadequate, of what would otherwise 
entirely elude our research. AU creatures together 
could not by searching find out God, yet one may 



THE INCARNATION. 95 

know more than anotlier ; and many, more at one time 
than at another ; angels more than men -, saints more than 
sinners ; and every behever much that he could not have 
discovered without this gracious intervention. Look 
at it as we may, there is a wonderful mystery in God's 
willing to be known of creatures. The whole creation 
is fruit of such a will. God might have spent eternity 
in bhssful silence, in the all-satisfymg glory of his own 
perfections. But his infinite benevolence chose to im- 
part this excellence, which is what we mean by God's 
declarative glory or his glorifying himself. This is 
the key to all the successive manifestations of God, 
and especially of the creative manifestation. In the 
work of the six days, including all the beauties and 
utilities of the earth and all the regulated immensities 
of heaven, Jehovah was only givmg us a sparkle of his 
grandeur ; and when we now look at the heavens and 
the earth in their vast generahty, or, taking any one 
particular, as an insect or a leaf, descend into its in- 
finitesimal minuteness of detail, we are stud}dng just 
so much of God. The common expression is just, 
we read the Book of Nature. But no external mani- 
festations could ever bring us to the chief of what we 
need to know of God, his moral perfections, his mercy 
and his love ; and God had regard to this, in making 
man. I do not mean merely that it was necessary to 
make a rational creature, in order to see and know 
God's glory, which is true indeed ; but over and above 
this, that the creature, thus rational, should be so made 



95 THE INCARNATION. 

as to have within himself some facilities for knowing his 
Creator ; some analogy, some resemblance to him, some 
ray of Godhead which might guide him back ; some 
image and likeness of the Invisible ; and therefore in 
this image and likeness was he made. If man had 
been made without this conformity, I do not see how 
he could ever have come to any understanding of the 
Divine perfections. Unless man were intellectual he 
could have no notion of God as truth ; unless man had 
conscience, he could have no notion of God as righteous- 
ness ; unless man had volition, he could have no notion 
of God as power ; and unless man had affections, he 
could have no notion of God as love. But because he 
is made in God's image in these respects, he is able to 
gain glimpses of the Divine attributes, of which he gets 
the best ideas when he removes aU limits from his own 
powers, and conceives them as enlarged to infinity. 
Por example, if a being were found, with intellect, 
memory, wlQ, and affections, but with no moral faculty, 
we could never, even by centuries of reasoning, convey 
to such a being the shghtest notion of virtue or holiness, 
or of God as morally piure or holy. And there is no 
absurdity in supposing that there are in God a thousand 
perfections, of which the very kind is unknown to us, 
because, among aU endowments, we have none even 
generically resembling these perfections. Lower ani- 
mals, possessed of but one sense or of but two, can by 
no possibihty arrive at the sensations of higher senses ; 
no absolutely blind man can conceive of colour, or deaf 



THE INCARNATIOK 97 

man of sound. There are animals probably which pos- 
sess senses unknown to us ; and among higher created 
spirits there are angels who possibly have faculties of 
mind* as inconceivable to us as colours to the blind. 
But what shall we say of Divinity ? All comparison is 
lost in the boundless glory ! Yet immeasurably as God 
transcends our powers, he has placed in us certain 
germs of resemblance, whereby we may come to know 
him ; and this was gloriously true of man in his primi- 
tive integrity. But why, you will be ready to say, does 
the preacher go back to the original creation of man, 
when the subject is, the manifestation of God by Jesus 
Christ? Por this reason, brethren, that the original 
man was the first Adam, and that Christ is the second 
Adam ; for this additional reason, that in the wonderful 
parallehsm between the first and the second, there is a 
common element of humanity in both, by means of 
which, as like to God, man is able to come nearer to 
God, than would have been possible otherwise. Just 
as the image of God in Adam placed him in a situation 
to know his Divine exemplar, just as in humanity we 
see somewhat of divinity, so in the perfect and more 
glorious humanity of Christ we are enabled to know 
more of God than by all other means, even when we 
consider it as mere humanity ; but infinitely more when 
we consider it as the containing tabernacle of the God- 
head. For, be it ever remembered, we are not to hold 
that the only divinity revealed in Christ is his godlike 
humanity ; but that this humanity, thus like God, and 
7 



98 THE INCARNATION. 

more like God than that of the first Adam, affords a 
vehicle for divine communications, and a channel for 
divine revelations, infinitely suitable and complete, 
when the Godhead becomes one with the manhood. 
Here, therefore, is an analogy between the first and the 
second Adam, which might otherwise escape us. An 
additional reason for the communication by Christ is 
found in the dreadful fact, that since the fall man has 
in a great degree lost this image of God, though cer- 
tain broken traces undoubtedly remain, so as to form 
the basis of further knowledge. 

Let us proceed, then, to the application of these 
principles to the case of the second Adam. We at 
once perceive his infinite superiority to the first. Even 
in Christ's humanity, the divine image shines with a 
splendom- unknown in paradise. " The first man is of 
the earth, earthy; the second man is the Lord from 
heaven." The \\dsdom, power and hohness of Adam 
were unimpaired, but limited. They did not attain 
even that mark which they would have reached, if the 
covenant had been so fulfilled as that Adam should 
have been confirmed in perpetual indefectible goodness. 
Tor Adam, though erect, was not established ; though 
not an infant, in Eden, as Socinianizing divines teach, 
he was but infantile as compared with the Lord from 
heaven. The Lord Jesus Christ was possessed of 
glorious perfections, even in his humanity, altogether 
unknown to our first progenitor. He was the me- 
dium of conveying divine wisdom. The Spirit was 



THE mCARNATION. 99 

given him without measure. He was not only sinless, 
but insusceptible of sin, and thus immeasm^ably sub- 
lime. Though we cannot comprehend the union of 
the ever-present Deity with the man Christ Jesus, 
yet we perceive at once that it must have exalted 
every power ; and that, while humanity was still hu- 
manity, and there was no confounding of the two 
natures, the human was all glorified by the indwell- 
ing of the divine, even as a globe of crystal, by an 
internal ^le, is made all light. Nor can we think of 
the infinite God as united personally to a manhood 
which was other than sublime. O, my brethren, what 
marvels dwell within that Son of man ! Even as the 
tabernacle in the wilderness was a homely structm^e, 
without presenting a rugged covering of the skins of 
beasts, but within was radiant with gold, and inhabited 
by the visible glory, between the cherubim above the 
ark, so under that body which was worn with weariness 
and pain, and within that face which was "marred 
more than any man," there abode the sublimated glory 
of humanity, in a divinely-sustained knowledge, holi- 
ness and power. Sometimes these rays shot forth. 
" We beheld his glory ; the glory of the Only-Begotten 
of the Pather." In authority over tempests and evil 
spirits ; in power to heal ; in creative miracles ; in 
searching of the heart ; in amazing endm^ance, forgive- 
ness and love ; we behold more of God than all the 
universe beside reveals ; and the point is, that it is re- 
vealed to man by man. Perhaps you inquire, how 



IQQ THE mCAENATION. 

this is a revelation of divinity, since the subject of these 
excellencies was truly man ? How can the excellencies 
of a man, however exalted, show us the excellency of 
God ? My dear brethren, this is a hard question, and 
there are difficulties in it which I should dread even 
to approach; yet we may coast around a continent 
which we dare not penetrate and cannot survey ; and 
there are some fixed points here, where we may take 
our position amidst a sea of uncertainty. This is more 
remarkably true of the moral perfections of God. In 
respect to these I would offer two remarks, intended to 
show that the revelation of the excellency in Christ Jesus 
is a revelation of God. 

1. Virtue and holiness, with lowly reverence be it 
spoken, is the same in God as in man. Virtue is not 
simply a relation of temporal things, but an eternal 
quality; because it is a quahty of the Eternal God. 
His command of virtue does not derive its excellence 
from God's mere power or arbitrary order, but from his 
eternal natm-e. God is liimself the foundation of virtue. 
Could we beheve the grovelling doctrine of expediency, 
or that there is nothing in virtue but its tendency to 
produce happiness, we might think otherwise. But 
then we might also believe that the highest happiness 
of God and the aggregate happiness of the universe, 
require our vice and misery. No, my beloved hearers, 
it is a fixed point, equally in morals and divinity, that 
holiness in God, though infinitely removed above holi- 
ness in man, is still one and the same holiness. The 



THE INCAENATION. 2Q2 

truth of God, the righteousness of God, the mercy of 
God, and the love of God, are not different quahties 
called by the same names, but the same qualities ex- 
isting in their highest power. So that when, in the 
God-man, Jesus Christ, we observe the beautiful and 
touching manifestation of feehngs, habits and volitions, 
residing in a human subject indeed, but in a human 
subject personally one with the divine, we are really 
beholding the very excellencies which reside in God. 
And by this means we are brought higher in the scale 
of morals and nearer to a contemplation of divine hoh- 
ness, than would be possible by any or by all other 
means. In every word, act and gesture of Jesus Christy 
we see the invisible Godhead breaking forth. 

2. Although the nature in which obedience was 
rendered is the human nature, yet it is human nature 
in such miion with the divine, that the two constitute 
but one Person ; and this adorable Person is divine. 
Therefore the moral states and acts of the Lord Jesus 
Christ, even when proceeding from a human will, are 
nevertheless, so far as we are concerned, the moral 
states and acts of God. To which we must add, that 
the human and the divine wiU, though not confounded, 
as though there were a divine agent in a new human 
form, are in perfect consonance ; there is no diversity, 
or struggle. In this sense it is but one and the same 
Will ; and thus the revelation of excellency in Christ 
Jesus is a revelation of God. 

In contemplating the character of Jesus Christ, we 



102 THE INCARNATION. 

observe one class of virtues, whicli you will join me in 
regarding as most affecting, and most fully showing the 
need of an Incarnation. These are the suffering virtues ; 
or those which are evolved under trial and pain. The 
first Adam, remaining sinless, would have remained as 
painless as God himself. There would never have been 
a sigh or a tear in Eden or in Heaven. But after the 
introduction of sin into om- world, a new class of affec- 
tions entered ; and sin has been, by God's mighty wis- 
dom, wrested against its own nature, to show forth the 
loveliest aspect of the Redeemer's glory. " Por it be- 
came him," says the apostle, " for whom are all things, and 
by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto 
glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect 
through suffering." * Dear Christian bretln^en, could 
we allow ourselves to be robbed of these delightful, 
heart-affecting shades, in the pictm^e of our Lord's life, 
or could they have existed mthout an Incarnation? 
These tender, gentle excellencies of Christ, are so nume- 
rous that they fiU yom^ memories of his ministry. His 
lowliness, his meekness, his fortitude, his fear, his grief, 
his patience, his pity, his forgiveness. "Which of these 
hneaments would you dash out of the picture ? See him 
among the sick and suffering; at the house of Peter, 
the gate of Nain, the plains where he fed thousands, the 
bereaved dwelling, and the grave of Lazarus. See him 
weary at the well. See him not having where to lay his 
head. See him in the upper chamber among the twelve. 

* Heb. ii. 10. 



THE INCAKNATION. 103 

See liim in tlie garden, at his trial, and on tlie cross. 
Observe the benignant, yet sorrowing virtues and 
graces of these hours, marked with tears and blood, and 
say, even though they tell of human weakness, which of 
these would you relinquish ? Yet, none of them could 
have been manifested to us, unless because " the Word 
became flesh, and dwelt among us." And, on the prin- 
ciple already laid down, these excellencies are not merely 
human but divine. The glory of the godhead shines 
out, not only in the raising of the dead, and the pardon 
of sins, but in the tears and sighs of compassion, and in 
the unexampled cry, " Not my will, but thine be done.'* 
We may therefore affirm mth confidence, that all the 
human character of Christ, as shown in his ministry on 
earth, is really a bright disclosure of the character of 
God, such as could be made only by the Incarnation. 

But the mention just made of suffering, leads us 
most naturally to consider the summing-up of those suf- 
ferings in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the 
manifestation of God in that complication of agonies. 
By the Cross, I mean here the whole series of events in 
the close of Christ's ministry as a sufierer ; his " Cross 
and Passion," as going to make up one oblation. And 
let it be specially noted that we are not now surveying 
this, in its primary intention, as a sacrifice to satisfy 
divine justice, but in its character of a manifestation of 
God in the flesh ; such a manifestation, moreover, as 
could be made only in the flesh, or by the assumption of 
humanity. The Son of God looked steadily to this one 



104 THE INCARNATION. 

termination. In eternal covenant he devoted himself to 
manhood and the cnrse. In his o\\ti divine intention he 
was " the Lamb slain, from before the foundation of the 
world." All the lines of type and prophecy are seen to 
converge on this one point. When he became a human 
being, every step was towards this consmnmation. And 
at this accm'sed tree, as at a focal point, all the mani- 
festations of God concentre with a burning effulgence. 
It is often said, and nothing was ever said more truly, 
that all the divine attributes harmonize in the plan of 
redemption, and therefore in the death of Christ. It is 
not necessary to show this by a formal and laboured 
catalogue of these perfections. They are all there, as 
the hues are aU in the rainbow ; but they are there as 
constituting a single luminous ray. All there is of 
God seems to pom* do\YTi on that spot of earth ; and 
the channel by which it is conveyed is indicated by 
these words, " God is Love." There, in that bleeding 
spectacle, all that we behold is in one sense humanity ; 
in another, it is godhead. 

'' Here his wliole name appears complete ; 
Nor wit can guess, nor reason prove, 
Which of the letters best is writ, 
The power, the wisdom, or the love. 

Here I behold his inmost heart, 
"Where grace and vengeance strangely join, 
Piercing his Son with sharpest smart, 
To make the purchas'd pleasures mine." 



THE INCARNATION. 205 

The Christianity of all ages has beheld in the human 
sufferings of a Divine Person, a manifestation not so 
much of man as of God. •That one thing which was 
wanting in the first Adam, namely, suffering, is here 
prominently set forth. This sight of Jesus Christ is 
the nearest view we can ever have of God. His unap- 
proachable glories forever elude our search, and even 
though in pursuit we fly on the wings of the morning, 
we behold the radiant throne forever flying before us ; 
but in the wounds of Christ, and in his dying counte- 
nance, we read the great lesson of manifested divinity. 
The Word was made flesh ; called the Word, as being 
the Kevealer, and in this dying scene, revealing more 
than in all ages previous : " to make all men see what is 
the fellowship of the mystery, which, from the beginning 
of the world, has been hid in God." Hence, Eph. iii. 
19, to "know the love of Christ," is to "be filled with 
all the fulness of God." 

The Son of God, then, by becoming incarnate, has 
made a manifestation of the Godhead, more complete 
than the universe has ever known. It is not merely, as 
even Unitarians and Deists may believe, that a certain 
good man, called Jesus of Nazareth, has taught more 
clear, and full, and accurate doctrines concerning God. 
This is true, but infinitely more is true. This Jesus of 
Nazareth, very God and very man, possessing the two 
natm-es in one indivisible divine person, has, in human 
guise, and with a human body and soul, so lived, so 
spoken, so felt, so acted, and so suffered, as to reveal 



106 THE INCARNATION. 

the divinity through the manhood, as it was never re- 
vealed before ; and so as to present those attributes 
which were otherwise invisible and remote, in near, pal- 
pable action. Henceforth, it is not merely Truth, Wis- 
dom, Power, and Love, in distant abstractions, but In- 
carnate Truth, and Wisdom, and Power, and Love. 
Suppose, my brethren, that we were to remove out of the 
Scriptures aU tliat knowledge of God, which has come 
to us through the Lord Jesus Christ, what would be 
left ! How would oiu- Christianity be shorn of its 
brightest rays ! No ; when we would behold divinity, 
we look for the light of his glory as it shines in the 
face of Jesus Christ. In him dweUeth aU the fulness 
of the Godhead, bodily. So he taught his disciples 
that the sight of himself was the sight of God. " Have 
I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not 
known me, Philip ? he that hath seen me, hath seen the 
Pather; and how sayest thou, then. Show us the 
Pather?" John the Baptist knew this, and testified it in 
his last recorded speech. His morning-star " paled its 
ineffectual fires " before the rising smi. " He that cometh 
from heaven," said he, " is above all ; and what he hath 
seen and heard, that he testifieth." All the time that 
Christ was upon earth, he did not cease to be in heaven 
with God. " No man hath seen God at any time ; the 
Only Begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Pather, 
he hath declared him." Hence, the Apostle John, in 
language otherwise unintelligible, speaks of the Word of 
God, as if subjected to the scrutiny of the senses, 1 John, 



THE INCARNATION. |Qy 

i. 1 ; " wliicli was from the beginning, which we have 
heard, -v^iiich we have seen with our eyes, which we 
have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the 
Word of life." It is Christ who is the great Re- 
vealer, even to our understandings ; and no man cometh 
unto the Father, even intellectually, but by Him. He 
is not simply the Teacher; he is the Word. He is 
God himself in revelation. And, as incarnate, he is 
God in the flesh : the mirror, the luminous manifester 
of God ; the " brightness," or radiant effulgence, or 
outshining of his glory, the express image, or sealed 
character of his subsistence. 

Remembering that it does not become us to in- 
trude into those things which we have not seen, we 
must not undertake to say by what methods God will 
reveal himself to us in the future world. We know 
that Christ will still be Immanuel, God with us. We 
know that he will still bear om^ nature, forever, in 
heaven. We know that the absolute perfections of the 
Godhead will never cease to be inaccessible. We know 
that om- Redeemer will still possess that same love 
which has led him to make all previous manifestations. 
We know that our own human nature shall then be 
brought unspeakably nearer to the human nature of the 
Lord Jesus Christ, than it has ever been on earth ; since 
it will be freed from all sin and imperfection; and 
since we can scarcely form ideas too high of what the 
Lord shall confer on our souls, when he shall change even 
" our vile body, that it may be fashioned hke unto his 



108 THE INCARNATION. 

glorious body, according to tlie working whereby he is 
able even to subdue all things unto himseK." Phil. iii. 21. 
And hence, it is surely withm the modesty of Christian 
conjecture, that when our humanity shall be brought so 
much nearer the glorified humanity of the Lord Jesus 
Christ, we shall enjoy communications from his divine 
nature, proportionably surpassing all that has fallen to 
our lot here. 

In this world, therefore, and in the other, we know 
more of God, by the Incarnation, than we could ever 
have known Anthout it ; and this is the first point to be 
established. 

II. By the Incarnation, God is brought near to 
our Affections. This, my brethren, is a part of the 
subject which involves less of theological argument, but 
wliich comes home more nearly to our hearts. Religion 
dwells much in the affections, and aU intellectual views 
are important as tending towards emotion and action. 
Stoical philosophy tried in vain to expel human pas- 
sions. Our very life is made up of them, and so far as 
we succeed in banishing them, we reduce existence to a 
condition such as that the world would be, if all colour 
were removed from the objects of nature. But, thanks 
be to God, it is in a very small degree that we are ca- 
pable of destroying sensibility. Though, by so doing, 
we prevent some pain, we still more certainly prevent 
all pleasure ; and God has wisely constituted us so as to 
fear, to hope, to desire, to love, to rejoice and to grieve. 



THE INCARNATION. JQg 

Who is there that needs to be instructed in the power 
of human domestic affections? These it is, which 
make the charm of home. A hundred pictures rise to 
your mind, the more dehghtful, because they are the 
product rather of memory than imagination. There are 
some things of which fancy may brighten the hues, and 
which may be loveher in fiction than in real hfe ; but it 
is not so with the affections of warm hearts. The at- 
tempt would be 

" To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
" To throw a perfume on the violet." 

The love of parent to child, of children to parents, and 
the conjugal affections from which these spring, are be- 
yond description. Dwell a moment on that which was 
first named. See the young mother, hanging over her 
babe, with a new and overmastering affection, which 
has changed her within a few short months from the 
buoyant maiden, swimming in the dance of pleasure and 
admiration, to be the doting, fearing, indefatigable, 
watching parent, whose whole soul is treasured up in 
that cradle, and who hves a new life in this experience, 
which iio one could have described to her, and which 
she cannot hope to make credible save by those who 
have borne the same burden. Suppose affliction and 
illness should come, there is bitterness infused into the 
cup ; but the passion has not lost its strength. What 
picture is more lovely or more familiar than that of two 
parents gazing upon the httle ones whom they have 



IXQ THE INCARNATION. 

consigned to sleep, as tlie unconscious objects of their 
love lie locked in eacli other's arms ? And often have 
we been called to see the same affection clinging to the 
languishing and dying child, and hanging over the dead ; 
a faithful watch-lamp among the tombs. Nor are these 
the only instances of strong attachments : I trust there 
is not one within the somid of my voice, who is not 
himself the subject or tlie object of such love, which 
goes beyond the lines of blood, and dignifies the field 
of sacred friendship. Think not, my hearers, that I 
have alluded to these acknoAvledged evidences of feeling 
for purposes of embellishment or entertainment. They 
serve another and more important end; they bring 
strongly before your minds the great part which is oc- 
cupied by the affections, and remind you how much the 
happiness of hfe is dependent on them. Staunch the 
well-spring of love, and what is left of existence that 
would be worth saving ? We might have intelligence, 
purpose, and animal appetite, but we could have no ele- 
vation, and no happiness. No, my brethren ; next to 
the love of himself, God has given us nothing better 
than the love of one another, as it flows forth in all the 
mutual relations of society. But, lest you thinly I wan- 
der from my topic, let me hasten to trace out the con- 
nexion of what has been said, with the loftier topic 
which engages us. I have instanced in a single affec- 
tion, that of love ; but while brevity demanded this, I 
would beg you to observe, that most of what has been 
offered, has equal apphcation to such other emotions as 



THE INCAENATION. 



Ill 



may terminate on a good object. We are now there- 
fore prepared to remark, that God has brought our 
feehngs within the circle of rehgion ; and this in two 
respects. He has sanctified these affections by his 
grace. He has turned these instincts into duties ; and 
has made feehngs which are dehghtful in themselves 
part of our tribute to himself. He has, with his own 
finger, inscribed on the second table of the Law, the 
household names of husband, wife, father, mother, 
son, daughter, servant, and neighbour, and thus made 
them sacred. He has proposed to us to receive pay- 
ment of duty in the shape of affections and their fruits, 
which are themselves a reward. He has enlarged the 
circle so as to take in all mankind ; and has said of good 
bestowed on the suffering, " Inasmuch as ye did it to 
the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me." 
Christianity has seized upon these natural affections, and 
enlarged, purified, refined, and sanctified them. The 
theme is inviting ; but I must go on to state a second 
respect, in which God has brought our affections within 
the circle of religion; for He has, wonderful to de- 
clare, permitted these affections to terminate on him- 
self. This is more amazing than at first appears. 
God suffers creatm-es, lately condemned for their sins, 
to look up to him with hope, desire, pious sorrow, joy, 
and love. That we can thus feel toward fellow-crea- 
tures, we know ; we experience it every day, to om- so- 
lace, relief and enjoyment ; but towards God ! how is it 
possible ? Surely the thought were impious. Jehovah 



][]^2 '^^^ INCAKNATION. 

is too high to be reached by such affections as ours ; 
and such a flight were too daring and presumptuous. 
Enough were it for us to stand at the foot of Sinai, and 
look upwards to the distant Majesty, with another class 
of emotions, with reverence, dread, admiring awe, and 
solemn fear. Sufficient were it for sinners to know that 
God will not consume them with a blaze of his wrath. 
And such indeed are the views engendered by the 
Law. It can go no further. But ye are not come 
to the mount that might be touched, and that burned 
fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness, and tempest, 
and the sound of a trumpet, and the voice of words; 
but ye are come unto Mount Zion, imto the city 
of the living God. The whole relation is so changed, 
that we approach no longer as servants, but as sons, 
and are permitted to pour into the bosom of God 
the very same affections which we bestow on beloved 
human creatm^es, only with a greatness of volume in 
the tide, such as could not reasonably end on any 
thing finite. God, in infinite condescension, permits 
us to look on him with a genuine and personal affec- 
tion. And it is this which brings the whole matter 
clearly T\ithin the scope of the present argument ; since 
our proposal is to show that by the Incarnation, God is 
brought sufficiently near to be the object of these af- 
fections. We have seen how the same glorious event 
brought the divine perfections within the range of our 
mental vision ; but to stop there, would be but the half 
of rehgion. It is not the cold contemplation of certain 



THE mCARNATION. ly^ 

attributes, even though divine, which accompUshes our 
vt^ork. The first and chiefest commandment, yea, the 
sum of all, is Thou shalt love. But who can love a 
metaphysical abstraction ; even when named by the 
name of God ? Who can draw nigh to a Deity so ab- 
struse and distant ? No contemplation of the glories 
of natm'e can do more than excite admiration, and per- 
haps a modified thankfulness, of the vaguest and coldest 
sort. It is the Gospel which brings God nigh. We 
do not deny that in the Old Testament there are many 
representations of God as a Pather, and many views of 
his character, as long-suffering and of tender mercy, and 
forgiving transgression, such as awaken tender emotions 
towards him. But all these are so many anticipations 
of the Christian era ; Christ, my brethren, is in the Old 
Testament as well as in the New. His name was on 
every altar, laver, pillar, vail, and censer, on all the 
golden imagery, and all the cunning work of the taber- 
nacle; but it was there in hieroglyphic device and 
cipher, such as required a key, and a practised eye ; and 
these were read backwards by the legahsts of Israel, 
for want of the knowledge of Christianity. When the 
Messiah came, he found them with this law in their 
hands, yet devoid of all generous, melting, loving affec- 
tions towards God. A yoke of galling, intolerable for- 
malism lay on the necks of the whole people. The 
general aspect of the Old Testament unquestionably 
wears a frown, not in its real intention, but as appre- 
hended by those whose hearts were veiled as to its real 
8 



114 THE INCARNATION. 

meaning. The doctrine of the New Testament was 
needed to expomid the Old. AH which is strikingly 
confirmed, when we survey the condition of the modem 
Jews, in their rejection of the Lord Jesus Christ. Their 
service is slavish. With the Old Testament in their 
hands, and read daily in their synagogues, they never- 
theless approach God vsdth attempts at a hard routine of 
ceremonies, which neither they nor their fathers were 
able to bear. The grand defect in all their services, 
and which they have no means of supplying, is the 
want of spiritual fihal love. The total absence of this 
among the heathen, is a striking fact in their history; 
Even while their poets say, " Tor we are also His off- 
spring ;" none of their books make any part of religion 
consist in affectionate regard for their deities, even the 
chief. No moral duties are referred to any attachment 
to the gods, as their motive ; no law says, Thou shalt 
love Jupiter or Neptune, or all the gods, or any of 
them. Whereas, when we turn to the New Testa- 
ment, or even to the Old as explained by the New, we 
observe tliis exercise of the affections on every page. 
And wherever true religion enters a soul, it works as 
strongly as do the natural impulses within us towards a 
beloved circle. The believer looks on God with as real 
and as personal affection, as on his children or his 
parent, though with a purer and higher flame. He is 
not content with the impersonal Deity of the philoso- 
pher ; the mere power of Nature, or Soul of the Uni- 
verse, which 



THE INCARNATION. ]^]^5 

" Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
" G-lows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees, 
" Lives through all life, extends through all extent, 
" Spreads undivided, operates unspent." 

Thougli these words may be taken in a good sense, tlie 
believer craves more than this. He asks for a personal 
God, to whom his soul, as an individual person, may 
come. My brethren, I am uttering what may seem 
a truism; but the age demands clear views on this 
point. The giant heresy of the age is that which makes 
the Universe God. Many years ago, the greatest fe- 
male mind of the day said, " The pubhc secret of Ger- 
many is Pantheism." That which began in Germany 
has spread over Prance and surrounding countries, and 
has appeared among ourselves, in the extravagant teach- 
ings of the transcendental infidelity. And there is a 
dreadful tendency in such opinions to gravitate from the 
schools of philosophy downward to the masses, in the 
grosser form of downright Atheism. These opinions 
have mingled themselves to a large extent with the po- 
litical revohitions of the continent. Let me cite one of 
the latest indications : At one of the great conventions 
in Germany, lately held, the Hessian delegate. Professor 
Vogt, used the following language: "I am for the sep- 
aration of Church and State ; but only on condition 
that what is called the Church be annihilated. The 
National Assembly must recognise a church of unbe- 
lief. The time has come, when a man may have per- 



116 THE mCARNATIOK 

mission in Germany to be an Atheist." * Such are the 
tendencies of modern philosophy ; and they spread more 
widely than is thought; among professed, and even 
among real Christians, their taint is felt; and, where 
they cannot destroy faith, they succeed in disturbing it. 
Thus, a celebrated Christian author of Prussia said to 
a friend of mine : " O, that I had your views of God ! 
0, that I could say thou to him, as to a personal God 1 " 
My brethren, the believer can approach his God as a per- 
son, and with a real, personal, individual affection, as 
when a man comes to a friend or father. But in order 
to this, there must be that approach through a Me- 
diator, which is our principal subject. When Luther 
said, "I cannot have an absolute God," Nolo Deum 
ahsolutum, he expressed a great fundamental truth. As 
he meant it, the doctrine is, that as a God of Justice, 
Jehovah cannot be approached by sinners, save through 
a propitiation. But it is true in another sense : we 
cannot come to God with a tender, bursting, filial affec- 
tion, until we behold him manifested in the Son. He 
is distant, towering, abstract ; the object of awful dread, 
and marvelling admiration, but not of confiding attach- 
ment. God must be brought nigher. Those attributes 
of heavenly fearfulness must be translated into the lan- 
guage of the heart. The immaterial and evanescent 
perfections must be presented in some tangible form. 
In the former division, we saw the provision made for 

* Kirchenfrennd, Feb. 1849. 



THE INCARNATION". WJ 

this, ill regard to the intellect ; the same provision is 
equally available in regard to the heart. " God was 
manifest in the flesh ; " manifest first to the understand- 
ing, which we have considered ; and, secondly, to the 
affections. The problem being, How is human love to 
such a being as God possible ? the answer is. We love 
God by loving Christ. In these simple words is con- 
tained a lesson of rehgious experience which would, if 
properly acted upon, change our whole life. It is by 
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, that we behold that as- 
pect of God, which awakens tender affection. No man 
cometh unto the Father, but by him. TiU this faith 
arises within us, God is seen far off, in clouds of angry 
justice. Faith manifests him as full of love, and ready 
to pardon and adopt ; and all this through Jesus 
Christ. 

But here the question presents itself, whether we 
may encourage our affections to go forth to Christ, as to 
a personal object of love. This does not seem difficult 
to one who has in memory the New Testament narra- 
tive. In those scenes, Jesus moved among his crea- 
tm^es as a man, and was the object of tender and gen- 
erous affections, which are recorded in the book, and 
are reproduced in ourselves while we read. Is there 
any believer who reads the four gospels, who does not 
feel his heart going forth perpetually and increasingly 
toward the individual character of the Lord Jesus ? He 
who knows nothing of this, in my judgment, knows 
nothing yet as he ought to know. It is a sympathy 



XI 8 THE INCARNATION. 

with those who surrounded the Son of God when he 
" was manifest in the flesh." In that narrative, if any- 
where, he is " altogether lovely." The eye singles him 
out from among all the scriptural characters, as he 
walks by the sea of Galilee ; as he opens his hps upon 
the Mount ; as he heals, and feeds, and comforts ; as 
he fasts, and prays, and sighs ; as he prepares the disci- 
ples for his departure ; and as he finally dies upon the 
cross. It is this " historical Christ," a term used in 
contempt by Strauss, and his imitators in America, 
whom we love ; even after his resurrection, when he ap- 
pears to Mary, to Cleopas, to the Apostles, and when 
he is caught up from among them into heaven. Now, 
we have only to reflect, that though in heaven, he is im- 
changed, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, 
and forever," to satisfy us, that as truly as he was loved 
by disciples on earth, so truly he may be loved by us ; 
and this, not with a vague approval or admiration of 
abstract virtues, but with a strong and moving individ- 
ual affection. And this is not contradictory to the spirit 
of Paul's words, 2 Cor. v. 16 : " Yea, though we have 
known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know 
we him no more ;" for here the apostle means to con- 
demn and repudiate his former carnal expectation of 
Messiah, as a temporal prince. In this very connexion, 
Paul is so far from condemning a spiritual affection of 
the Redeemer, that he exclaims : " Whether we be be- 
side ourselves it is to God ;" that is, " if as our enemies 
say, we are transported out of ourselves by enthusiasm. 



THE INCARNATION. HQ 

SO as to seem deranged, let them know we are animated 
by a zeal for God ; for the love of Christ constraineth 
us ;'' or, as the word means, ' bears us away like a 
strong and resistless torrent.' It is therefore possible 
and lawful to look on the person of our Redeemer with 
a strong individual regard ; loving him for every bright 
virtue, and gentle word, and beneficent act of his hu- 
man pilgrimage ; and ascribing to him the same excel- 
lencies, now that he has ascended into heaven. And 
experience testifies that this love of the Lord Jesus 
Christ is as true and distinct an emotion, in the Chris- 
tian's mind, as any which he cherishes towards children 
or friends. But here the question meets us. How, or in 
what sense is this the loving of God ? How are we 
hereby brought any nearer to the Great Supreme ? In 
replying briefly to this, I must recall to your mind 
what has been said under another head. That which 
we love in Jesus Christ, is not his exterior form, of 
which the Scriptures wisely give us no details ; but the 
Hneaments of his spiritual nature ; the moral features ; 
the virtues and graces of his inner life ; his humility, 
faith, devotion, gentleness, meekness, longsufiering, for- 
titude, com-age, benevolence, and truth. These inter- 
nal beauties are manifested by his words, his works, and 
his sufferings. The whole Gospel narrative is a record 
of them, and as we read, we love. We muse upon them 
when the book is laid down, as we do over the letter of 
our dearest friend ; nay, we must open it once again, 
and look at the very words. The picture is formed in 



120 THE INCARNATION. 

our mind, and rises before us, as that of a distant hus- 
band to the affectionate wife ; but it is a moral image, 
and the sum of the traits is hohness. Now, these spir- 
itual attractions, though manifested to us through a hu- 
man soul, are nevertheless divine; because Divinity 
shines through that manhood. The Godhead, yea, the 
whole undivided Godhead, has its union there with hu- 
man nature. Nowhere else in the universe is so much 
of God presented for our adoration, as in the Lord Jesus 
Christ. With every thought, emotion, and volition of 
that holy human spirit, there is a present and consent- 
ing holiness of the Divine Nature. These vuiues and 
graces have two sides : one toward us, and one toward 
heaven. Toward us, all that our eyes behold, is human ; 
toward heaven, is the equal and coincident will of di- 
vinity. Not only so : while Christ Jesus, as a man, is 
manifesting toward us these perfections and attractions, 
he is one with God. Though there are two natures, 
there is but one person : the glorious person who is 
named Christ. The constitution of this adorable Per- 
son, was for the very purpose of manifesting God. As 
has been fully said, we behold more of God in the face 
of Christ, than elsewhere in all the universe. Is not the 
question answered, then ? Wlien we love Christ, we 
love God. We cannot in any way so intelligently love 
God, as when we love Christ. And therefore, we need 
not be afraid to let our thoughts and powers go out 
with all their fulness toward the Son ; we need not be 
apprehensive lest we defraud the Father of his glory. 



THE INCARNATION. 221 

Christ is God, in human manifestation. The Word 
was made flesh. God is incarnate, and as incarnate is 
made ours : the Only Begotten Son, who is in the bo- 
som of the Pather, He hath revealed him. The reverse 
method is not so safe. There are some who are full of 
high expressions towards God, in general, but who make 
little of Christ. Having not come by the only way, 
such persons have no true apprehensions of God. 
" Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is born 
of God; and every one that loveth him that begat, 
loveth him also that is begotten of him.'' " He that 
hath the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son, 
hath not life." This is a great mystery to the world ; 
but it is understood by the people o^ God. It is indeed 
the great principle of Christianity. But it never could 
have entered into human minds to conceive it. How new 
and impossible to be foreseen ! This is the reason it is 
called a mystery, that, having long been hidden, it is 
now made known. Hoav influential ! Religious views 
are no longer cold and inoperative. They are brought 
within the circle of our heart-affections. The Lord 
Jesus Christ, so to speak, sits by our fireside. All our 
natural emotions are brought in as auxiharies to our love 
of Christ ; and in loving him, we are performing our 
great duty to God. And then how dehghtful ! Here 
it is, in the love of Christ, that the chief happiness of 
religion consists. Loving God is no longer an impossi- 
bility or an abstraction. We are "Oound to him by ties 
of hmuanity, as by the " bonds of a man ;'' for, " we 



122 THE INCARNATIOK 

are members of liis body, of his flesh, and of his 
bones." 

The great proof that this view is correct, is derived 
from an inspection of the New Testament ; for there we 
see it to be the view of the early Christians. If, on 
looking at these records, we had found it to be other- 
wise ; if, for example, we had found, either that the 
Redeemer was spoken of as one to whom no tribute of 
affection could properly be paid, because he is only a 
deceased man ; or, that the Son of God is too higlily 
exalted, and too far removed, for us to visit him vidth 
our affection ; then, indeed, we should have had good 
cause to reject all the doctrine which has been proposed. 
But this doctrine meets full confirmation in primitive 
experience. " Our fellowship," says the Apostle John, 
" is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." 
"Whom, having not seen," says Peter, " ye love." He 
addresses liimself to the body of Christians in many 
countries ; it was the common experience of the age. 
They loved the unseen Christ. They looked for " that 
blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great 
God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." And it was so 
radical a distinction between the Christian and the 
world, that Paul, in his zeal, declares, " If any man 
love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema 
maranatha." And after apostolic days, this personal 
love to the Lord Jesus was the characteristic of disci- 
ples. The expression of the martyr Ignatius is cele- 
brated, in its Latin version : Amor meus crucieixus 



THE INCARNATION. 123 

EST ! I must go further, my bretliren, and say, that 
this is the great lesson of evangelical Christianity. 
Wherever vital piety decays, this decays. It takes its 
flight long before the alteration of creeds or the denial 
of doctrines ; for there may be an age of cold ortho- 
doxy unenlivened by one beam of love to the Redeemer. 
But when this affection has fled, sound doctrine soon 
prepares to spread its wings likewise. For a time 
there may be accurate metaphysical discussion, contro- 
versy about tenets, and even persecution for differences. 
But by degrees the Cross is thrust into a corner ; and 
at length the propitiatory work of Christ is extenuated 
or forgotten. The Atonement being tarnished or ex- 
ploded, the Godhead of Christ is soon found to be 
superfluous. There is no need of a divine Redeemer 
under that easy system of liberal Christianity in which 
every man is his own saviour. This may account for 
the known fact, that among those who reject the Trin- 
ity, small account is made of personal love Ipwards the 
Lord Jesus Christ. The too frequent allusion to his 
double nature and to his redeeming blood becomes 
offensive, and the people are in a fair way to forget 
that there ever were such spots as Gethsemane or 
Golgotha. Whereas, in direct opposition to this, when- 
ever vital piety revives, there is a marked revival of lo^^e 
to Jesus Christ. It was so at the Reformation, and it 
will be more gloriously so in the centuries of hght 
which are to come. Wherever a genuine convert is 
made from heathenism, his heart is expanded with a 



I24i THE INCARNATION. 

new affection, love to tlie crucified Redeemer. In 
their best moments, Christians of every age and country- 
have risen in Ic^e to God manifest in the flesh. This 
is witnessed by the thousands of hymns and spiritual 
songs in which Cluistian affection has poured itself 
forth in all the languages of Christendom. We need not 
except the Greek and Latin hymns of the early church, 
before the rise of papacy : some of which have provi- 
dentially been retained even among many corruptions. 
The lyric effusion of some favoured moment of un- 
wonted transport in an individual saint, being consigned 
to the care of poetry and music, thus became part of 
the worship of the whole church. At the Reformation, 
songs in an unknown tongue were suddenly exchanged 
for those in the vulgar tongues, and thousands of hymns 
to Christ burst forth over Germany, Switzerland, Hol- 
land, France, and Britain. The piety thus reviving 
continued from century to centmy, and for the same 
object. So far from shunning the death of the Lord, it 
was Christ on the cross that, above all things, attracted 
their hearts, because it was here that most was seen of 
God manifest in the flesh. How many a night of 
affliction has been brightened by this vision ! How 
many a dying hp has made the name of Jesus its last 
articulation ! 



V. 



THE WORLDLING. 



THE WOELDLING* 



Philippians iii. 19. 
" "Who mind earthly things." 



The pencil of inspiration, by one rapid sweep, often 
depicts a whole class of human souls. In the present 
instance, the view given of ungodly men, in a single 
fearful aspect, is important enough to be severed from 
its most interesting context, and made the object of our 
profound consideration. The apostle, with deep Chris- 
tian feeling, is here describing the people of the world. 
He closes this description with the hint which I have 
selected. It is the portrait of all unrenewed persons, 
however widely they may differ in other respects. They 
mind earthly things. The word is peculiar in its force ; 
they set their minds upon earthly things, think of 

* New York, October 3, 1852. 



22-8 THE WORLDLING. 

them, think much of them, yea, constantly and su- 
premely. Earthly things, and not heavenly, fill their 
minds and occupy their regard and affections. And 
this charge, which to careless, unenlightened souls may 
seem quite a trifling one, is so grave in Paul's estima- 
tion, that it moves him to tears, and he weeps while he 
writes. It is this minding of earthly things, as charac- 
teristic of unbeheving men, which we are about briefly 
to consider. 

Readers of the Scriptures have observed that two 
great opposing spheres are often held up to view; one 
as engaging the hearts of the ungodly and one of the 
godly. They are the earth and heaven, verses 19, 20, 
this world and the world to come ; things visible and 
things invisible ; the present and the future ; the world 
and Christ; Mammon and God. AU these tire the 
same in substance ; and the contrast or opposition is 
complete and irreconcilable. According to these two 
sets of objects, or two worlds as we may call them, the 
whole race of men is divided into two portions; the 
World, an expressive term for all that is opposed to God 
and the Chm^h, or people of the hving God. 

It may as clearly be presumed that the noble crea- 
ture whom we caU man, was not made to spend his 
powers on passing sublunary things, as that he was not 
made to browse with the ox or grovel with the serpent. 
A consideration of his powers shows that he was des- 
tined for eternity and for God. Revelation has for its 
great end to set before him the objects which are suited 



THE WORLDLING. 229 

to these capacities. Their residence in the present hfe 
is a period of grace, in which men under the gospel are 
invited to rise from earthly towards heavenly things ; 
and it is the principal work of the Holy Spirit to invite, 
win and attract men to the pursuit and enjoyment of 
spiritual realities. 

Notwithstanding which, we have before us the con- 
tinual spectacle of the majority of mankind worshipping 
the creature, forgetting God, and hving for the present 
fleeting hour. Tor them, heaven and hell, the law and 
its satisfaction, eternity and God, are as though they 
were not ; sending forth no moulding influence. Por 
them, the present world is heaven enough, if they could 
only make it sure ; and they would rejoice in a decree, 
which should fix their abode here forever. Let us look 
a little more closely at this side of our common human 
nature. 

It requires but a glance at the busy crowds around 
us to perceive that the great things of the soul and of 
eternity do not absorb their chief interest. Whether 
you judge them by their words or their company, by 
what they do or leave undone, you find them to be " of 
the earth, earthy." This is the more striking, when you 
contrast with it their high-wrought zeal in all that con- 
cerns the present life. When personal honour and ap- 
plause or family distinction are in view, no labour seems 
too greq^t ; and under the goad of fashionable rivalry, 
they expend language, time, and even thousands of 
money, which proves too well how much they are in 
9 



130 THE WORLDLING. 

earnest. In this race they will suffer none to leave 
them behind ; and we have hved to see high professors 
in the church, whose manner of household life, equipage, 
and entertaiinuents, leave us marvelling what those 
pomps and vanities of the world can be, which they 
have renounced as followers of Christ, or where we are 
to look for cross-bearing, godly simplicity, and self- 
denial. Our Lord certainly had a meaning when he set 
forth the imminent peril to the soul, which comes from 
worldly riches ; and I suppose the wealth against which 
he warned his followers, was less than that of many who 
hear me, but who feel no danger. The way in which 
worldly possessions jeopard the soul, is by occupying 
the affections, leading the heart away from God and 
divine things, to take its contentment in the good things 
of this hfe. This is serving Mammon ; making a god 
of present things ; giving the supreme regard to that 
which is perishing ; and it is declared to be inconsistent 
with the love of God. The minister of the gospel, as 
one " who must give account," must not shun to exhibit 
this danger to those who are possessed of worldly 
goods. "Whether they will hear or forbear, his com- 
mission is exphcit : " Charge them that are rich in this 
world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in un- 
certain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us 
richly all things to enjoy." The trusting in riches, 
here intended, is the setting of the mind on theip. as the 
som'ce of comfort ; making them a staff and stay ; re- 
lying on them, as a provision against trouble ; indulging 



THE WORLDLING. 3^3]^ 

a secret complacency in tliem, as making us better 
than others, who have lost them or have never attained 
them ; and flattering ourselves at the supposed security 
of our ovm acquisitions, as compared with the precarious 
fortunes of others. Those who so hve, whether in the 
church or out of it, are minding earthly things and 
estranging their hearts from the hving God, who giveth 
us all things richly to enjoy. 

But it would be unwise to limit our view of the 
earthliness of worldly riches to the use which is made 
of them while actually possessed. A large part of the 
human family is engaged in the hot pursuit ; some 
with success, and many more with disappointment. 
This variety in the result makes no difierence, however, 
in the temper of mind with which the seeming goal is 
sought. We need only open our eyes, at mid- day, in 
any great commercial city, to learn that this is the prime 
mover in all the complex and indescribable commotion 
of human business. Mistake me not; I am not de- 
nouncing activity in business, or even the pursuit of 
wealth, simply considered. As a chief instrument of 
happiness in this life, it may be sought in different de- 
grees and from different motives -, moderately or im- 
moderately ; selfishly or benevolently ; with an entii'e 
absolution in the creature, or with an homiy reference 
of all to God. But I will affirm, and none will soberly 
deny it, that, as a matter of fact, the multitude, the 
majority, the mass of men thus engaged day and night 
with impetuous, feverish, often dehrious haste, are actu- 



132 T^^ WORLDLIXG. 

ated by no impulses but those wbicli spring from the 
creature, and thus that they mind earthly things. This 
is what they live for ; for this they make their sacri- 
fices and run their risks. This occupies their thoughts, 
at rising, and as they hurry through the great emporium, 
at desks and places of trade, in the retirement of the 
evening and the intervals of night. It is this which 
excludes prayer, meditation, the Scriptures, the care of 
the soul, the seeking of Christ's kingdom and righteous- 
ness. The desire is not quenched by successes. No 
philosopher has discovered the point at which insatiable 
avarice can consent to admit that it is rich enough. 
We know of no principle recognised by the world on this 
point, but this, that every man must be as rich as he 
can. Great accumulations do but stimulate the appe- 
tite for more, and the close of life, instead of being de- 
voted to quiet preparation for death and eternity, is 
frequently harassed by more vexing cares of acquisition 
than its youthful dawn. The point of the charge is, 
that God is shut out. Tor this no reasonable and im- 
mortal creature can frame an apology. He drives a 
hazardous bargain who barters away his opportunity of 
salvation. " Eor what shall a man give in exchange 
for his soul ! " Yet look abroad, and behold the face 
of society. The broad and thronged avenue is filled 
with human beings, rushing towards the gates of death, 
aU engrossed in that which perishes even while it is 
obtained. We need no longer wonder that the church 
dwindles, and that few are added to the company of 



THE WORLDLING. 133 

God's people. There is a contagion in the evil, and 
every day fresh thousands yield themselves to the same 
impulse. Unless God break the spell, unless he seize 
upon them by the strong hand of the Spirit, these de- 
luded beings will die as they have lived, and, plunging 
into a state whither they can carry no earthly gains, 
will learn by experience what it is to gain the world 
and lose their own souls. 

The brief description of the text includes the lovers 
of pleasure. Either in the pauses of business, or as 
their whole employment, great numbers of persons 
spend thek time in seeking amusement, recreation, the 
satisfying of cmiosity, appetite or passion. This host 
includes most who are in youth, but many also who 
tread on the confines of age. It needs no laboured ar- 
gument to show that these mind earthly things. They 
are living as though they had no souls. They are lovers 
of pleasure more than lovers of God. It is common to 
speak of such as amiable and good-natured, or as in- 
juring none but themselves. But no persons are more 
intensely selfish, than the confirmed devotees of pleasure. 
Their motto is, Who will show us any good ? What 
shall we eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithal 
shall we be clothed ? There are none more bound to 
the earth. There is no temper more incompatible mth 
religion, or with the serious pursuit of it. Hence the 
reiterated injunctions of our Lord to those who would 
follow him, to leave all, to deny themselves, and to take 
up the cross daily. Hence also the striking admonitory 



# 

134 THE WORLDLING. 

pictures of the rich man clad in pui-ple and fine linen, 
and faring sumptuously every day ; of the young ruler, 
who went away soiTOwfiil ; and of him who said to his 
soul, " Take thine ease ; eat, drink, and be merry." 
The entertainments and pleasures of an easy life destroy 
tens of thousands, who nevertheless never fall into open 
and flagrant vices. Satan's end is sufficiently gained, 
when, by immersing them in thoughts of the present 
world, he can keep them away from all consideration of 
eternal things. 

What a horrid fraud Satan is practising on the 
clnu'ch, in regard to the daughters of the covenant ! 
In fashionable circles — dare I name them Christian — 
the years where girlhood merges into maturity are fre- 
quently sold to the adversary. The yoimg American 
woman is taught to deem herself a goddess. If there be 
wealth, if there be accomplishment, if there be beauty, 
almost a miracle seems necessary to prevent the loss of 
the soul. Behold her pass from the* pedestal to the 
altar. The charming victim is decked for sacrifice. 
Every breath that comes to her is incense. Her very 
studies ai'e to fit her for admii'ation. Day and night 
the gay but wretched maiden is taught to think of self 
and selfish pleasures. Till some Lenten fashion of 
solemnity mterrupt the whirl, the season is too short 
for the engagements. Grave parents shake their heads 
at magnificent apparel, costly gems, night turned into 
day, dances at wliicli Romans would have blushed, pale 
cheeks, bending frames, threatened decay ; and yet they 



THE WORLDUXG. I35 

allow and submit. And tlius tliat sex, wliicli on^Ax to 
shew the sweet unselfish uinocency of a holy youth, is 
carried to the overheated temples of Pleasure. Thus 
the so-called Christian verifies the apostle's maxim, 
'^ She that hveth in pleasure is dead while she hveth." 

But it is needless to classify worldhngs. Their 
number is so great that we can scarcely move vrithout 
encountering them ; and it is well if we do not find our- 
selves iafectedwith the same disease. The god of this 
world has brou.ght them under his incantation, by 
blinchng their minds. He magidfies to their apprehen- 
sions the gains and exaltations of sensible things ; he 
colom^ the pleasures of hfe ; he shuts out the future, the 
spiritual and the di\'ine. That ardour with which they 
run their short career, would be worthy of a better ob- 
ject. Alas for them ! they are building on the sea-sand, 
and the tempestuous waves wiU soon overwhelm their 
confidence. 

Let me xeij earnestly put it to the mind and con- 
science of every hearer, whether he belongs to this class 
or not. The Scriptures divide the aggregate of all that 
the human soul can pursue with desire iato two great 
worlds, the earthly and the heavenly. Every man h^ing 
is iatent on one or the other ; and no man can attain 
both. There can be no compromise. Ye cannot ser\'e 
God and ^lammon. Ye cannot mind earthly things, 
and at the same time mind heavenly things. If any 
man love the^orld, the love of the Father is not m him. 
Nay, he that loves the world is at enmity with God. 



136 THE WOKLDLmG. 

So mucli is at stake, that you cannot be too earnest in 
the self-examination. Here you may bring your inward 
character to a test. Ask not whether you have at some 
former period been admitted to the external church ; 
thousands have been thus admitted, without any change 
of nature. But ask, which of these two worlds has 
your heart ? Are you living under the power of the 
world to come ? Does its awful shadow fall across 
your path, and give solemnity to yom- purposes ? Do 
you go about the business of every day under the deep 
impression that all these things are perishing, that this 
is not yom^ rest, that presently God yom^ Judge, whose 
penetrating eye is always upon you, will call you hence, 
to give an account of the deeds done iij the body ? 
Are you seeking a home and kingdom which cannot be 
moved ? Is your treasure laid up in heaven, and is 
your heart there ? Do you look for your choicest gTati- 
fications in divine things, in heavenly truth, and in 
communion with God ? Are you jealous of every thing, 
however usual or valuable among men, which removes 
your thoughts from the great invisible world in which 
your true possessions he ? And do you feel yourself a 
pilgrim, who can enjoy no settled and satisfying rest 
till you reach a world from which sin is to be forever 
absent ? These are questions which admit of an answer. 
Or, on the other hand, are your thoughts at waking 
wholly upon the things of time and earth? Do these 
things occupy your most active endeayouft and employ 
your words ? Are you bent with all your energies on 



THE WORLDLING. £37 

the acquisition or preservation of gain, pleasure, ease, 
or fame ? And is this so fully your turn of mind, that 
you seldom pray, or seldom with any engagement of 
heart ; seldom think of God ; seldom meditate on the 
eternity to which you are hastening ; and seldom feel 
your sins to be such a burden as to force you to flee to 
Christ for relief? Such is the case of many, of most; 
and if it be yours, then know assuredly that you mind 
earthly things. 

But I am not permitted to leave you with the bare 
conviction that this is your state. A superficial per- 
suasion of this, as an undoubted fact, has often come 
over you, without producing any change in your way of 
life. Consider with me, I pray you, the quality, char- 
acter and end of this your chosen course. 

1. To mind earthly things, as the great paramount 
object, is degrading. It is unworthy of an immortal 
intelligence. You were made for better things. You 
were no more framed to fill your boundless capacities 
with these fleeting vanities, than to take the pleasure 
of the beast, bird, or insect. That nature of yours 
was once in the image of God, and still sighs for a 
restitution, which, through grace, is attainable. The 
course you pursue belies and repudiates your im- 
mortahty. Y^our animated breathless chase of these 
temporalities, when translated into its true import, 
speaks thus : " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we 
die." You are prostituting a noble instrument to an 
ignoble use. This is the secret cause of those disgusts 



138 THE WORLDLING. 

which you often feel. Earthly things have not done for 
you that which they promised. They have not made 
you happy ; they have often left you weary, sated, dis- 
appointed, and smarting. Some of your earlier pleasures 
have already lost their exquisite zest. Increase of years 
has brought weakness, repining, and bitterness. Accu- 
mulation of worldly goods has failed to give you com- 
fort in proportion. Nay, if you will own the mortifying 
truth, you are less tranquil and satisfied than in former 
days. Many thmgs on which you relied, have been 
taken from you, and for many that remain your appe- 
tite has died away. The foam of yom' brimming cup 
has been blown away, and you are endeavouring to 
cheer yourself with the dregs. Confess it, O my earthly 
hearer, and add the solemn Gonsideration, that you are 
a spiritual, immortal, and accountable being, who will 
before long be hurried into the presence of Eternal 
Judgment. In reference to this, your great and cer- 
tain destiny, the objects which interest you have no 
weight, except to condemn you. Having lived so long, 
you have not yet begun to live in view of your endless 
existence ; and painful as is the charge, it is nevertheless 
just, that yom^ whole course thus far has been such as 
to lower the true dignity of yom^ nature, as one of God's 
immortal creatm^es. 

2. To mind earthly things involves incalculable loss. 
Men are prompt to avoid losses in that which concerns 
worldly possessions. But those who hve altogether for 
this hfe, lose an entire class of pleasures and benefits. 



THE WORLDLING. 239 

To them one avenue of happiness, and that the greatest, 
is closed. The higher faculties of the soul are unem- 
ployed. The gifts and consolations and delights of re- 
ligion are unknown to them. Communion with God 
— a wide, expressive term — ^is all a mystery. They 
lose the pleasm^es of holy truth, and the witness of a 
conscience pacified by the blood of Christ. They lose 
the intercourse of faith and devotion with an unseen 
world and a benignant Saviour ; the calm, hopeful an- 
ticipation of death ; and the rapturous contemplation of 
glories yet in reserve. They lose the sense of God's 
favom' and the consciousness that they have entered on 
a progress of discipline and improvement which shall 
never end. In a word, they lose all that we mean by 
religion. 

To some of you, my hearers, this seems no great 
loss. So wedded are you to the world, your idol, that 
you can look for happiness to no other source; no, not 
even to God. Yet I am bound to protest to you, that 
Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness ; and that you 
forsake them to your infinite loss. 

3. Hear me yet further, when I solemnly declare to 
you, that to mind eartlily things is to incur fearful 
guilt. It is sinful. It is contrary to God's holy will, 
and to his express commandment. It is wounding to 
yom- conscience, which still makes you feel the differ- 
ence between right and wrong, and rebukes and pun- 
ishes you for this habitual sin of yoiu" life. You admit 
to yom-selves, that you were not made for this world 



140 THE WORLDLING. 

only ; that you are the creatures and subjects of God, 
bound to do his pleasure, and that he demands of 
you to love him with heart, soul, strength, and mind. 
No doubt there have been moments in which your 
worldly pleasures have been embittered by the thought, 
that you were enjoying them in opposition to the knoAvn 
will of yom^ Creator, Benefactor, and Preserver. Look- 
ing back on the long course of years, which you have 
spent without God, you have no moral complacency in 
it. It has not been the life which a dependent, favoured 
creatm^e should have led. To have thus preferred cre- 
ated things to God, and made them the source of your 
happiness, to the exclusion of the Great Supreme, must 
appear to you, in any honest retrospect, all glaring 
with the colom's of idolatry. It is ample ground of 
condemnation, that you have not made choice of God, 
but year after year have made choice of the world. 
And the proper consideration of this might bring you 
to repentance and to the foot of the cross. O that you 
could be induced to meditate profoundly on this charge 
brought against the ungodly world, that they mind 
earthly things ! 

4. To mind eartlily things involves peril of eternal 
destruction. I use a strong term, because the strongest 
I can use is hkely to leave the worldly mind miim- 
pressed. Yes, the man who dehberately chooses this 
world sets himself against God ; and, oh, how unequal 
is the contest ! He has his reward. In this hfe he 
has his good things, and many a despised Lazarus evil 



THE WORLDLma 24]^ 

things ; but you remember the reverse, indicated by 
the parallel. The world passeth away and the lust 
thereof. All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, 
the lust of the eye, and the pride of hfe, all is rapidly 
fleeing ; and when it has fled, the worldling's heaven 
has fled with it. Here, in this present state, he chose 
his paradise. No eyes had he to behold any thing be- 
yond. Revelation and its ministers warned him of the 
unstable basis on which he was rearing his taU and 
costly structm^e, and sought to win him or alarm him 
to take the glass and look towards that city which hath 
foundations. But in vain. In all this he could make 
out nothing like reality, nothing to be an actuating mo- 
tive. Living amidst the things of sense, and alive 
every moment to their palpable pressure, he took into 
none of his accounts that invisible state whose awful 
sweep, comprising God and angels and saints and all 
that is holy and ennobling, encircled him; nor that 
solemn eternity into which he was about to make the 
irrevocable plunge. And when the hour struck, which 
he so dreaded while he scarcely believed, the hour of 
his separation and departure, it found him still with 
clenched hands, striving to retain the things of time, 
and torn away bleeding and despairing from the earth 
which he had preferred to God. Read his doom in the 
brief but pregnant words of the context : Whose end is 
destruction ! It is the lot of those who forget God. 

There is reason to fear, that more are incurring 
this danger than are wilhng to believe it. The very 



142 THE WORLDLING. 

closeness of their attacliinent to the objects of sense 
makes them insusceptible of impressions from divine 
realities. In regard to these, they hear as though they 
heard not ; hstening to the voice of admonition as the 
antediluvians hstened to the forebodings of Noah, or as 
the men of the plain received the warnings of Lot. For 
persons thus infatuated, what hope can there be ? "What 
shall hinder their dying as they have hved ? Nothing 
human, my brethren, but a bold, sudden and determinate 
resolution, to give up this world for the sake of another ; 
to distrust the specious fallacies of sense and give cre- 
dence to the testimony of God. Here, indeed, I am 
made to feel my own insufficiency. How solemn is the 
position of a minister of Christ ! Placed amidst perish- 
ing fellow-mortals, to entreat them to escape from im- 
pending ruin, he finds them deaf to aU his arguments 
and solicitations. Year after year he comes to them, with 
such pleas and motives as his closest research and most 
earnest prayers can enable him to offer. Yet he finds 
the same hardness and resistance only augmented, as 
years roll on and the cords of evil habit are Avound 
about them more mdissolubly. One after another drops 
away, whom we dare scarcely follow in their flight into 
the worlds unknown. The ranks close upon the vacan- 
cies they make, and the battle of cupidity, pleasm-e, and 
ambition rages on as before. It is in such circum- 
stances that we lend a wistful ear to the oracle which 
proclaims from heaven, " Not by might, nor by power, 
but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts." Our wait- 



THE WORLDLING. 143 

ing eyes are unto God, for the outpouring of his Holy 
Spirit. And next to this, and as instrumental of this, 
our appeal is to the professed people of God, that they 
would join their prayers for the awakening and conver- 
sion of an ungodly world. It was the contemplation 
of souls thus besotted and endangered, which extorted 
from Paul the pathetic burst which accompanies my 
text : " Por many walk of whom I have told you often, 
and now tell you even weeping, whose end is destruc- 
tion, who mind earthly things ! " Beloved brethren, 
I should hail it as the brightest promise which has ever 
gilded these feeble labours among you, if there should 
be apparent in the midst of us a deep, extensive, and 
tender concern in the hearts of professing Christians, for 
those who are wedded to eartlily things. Suffer me, 
with all sincerity, to commend this to you as a subject 
suitable for your prayers ; in private, in your families, in 
social devotion, and in the house of God. For unless it 
please God to send revival, our outward increase will 
be but the signal for our inward decay. 

If numbers were strength we should be strong. 
But mere numbers are fallacious. If souls are not 
brought to God by converting grace, in due proportion, 
our extension is but a weakening process, resulting in 
unhealthy plethora. Let me confess it, my respected 
brethren, the thought often occm^s to me, that of this 
sort of enlargement we abeady have too much ; it may 
be our temptation and our snare ; it may invoke God's 
chastening. If we are selfish, if we wrap ourselves up 



144 'THE WORLDLING. 

in complacency, if we '' number the people," if we sum 
up tlie wealth represented mthin these walls, for any 
purpose except to rebuke our sin and quicken our ac- 
tivity, if we hug our easy privileges, and refuse to 
break the charm and go forth to the help of weaker con- 
gregations ; we may confidently expect, first checks and 
then visitations. When I look fearfully upon this great, 
compact, and harmonious assembly, and consider its 
resources and strength, and then around us and near us 
behold numerous weak and struggling churches, which 
need money far less than they need men, I cannot resist 
the conviction, that a considerable body of self-denying 
men, with their families, ought, by concerted action, to 
go forth as an evangelical colony ; and if the fifty best 
and ablest of the flock should do so to-morrow, while 
friendship would weep over the wound, I should give 
thanks over it, as the best day of my life. But to pro- 
duce such dispositions we need a new spirit. Christian 
professors, to whom we look as leaders, will have to 
learn fresh lessons of moderation, temperance, and re- 
gard for weak brethren. They will have to separate 
the amusements of their children by a more visible line 
from the amusements of a world lying in wickedness. 
They will cease to plead for Baal, and to frame excuses 
for all that their soul lusteth after. Religion will be- 
come the grand,, paramount afi'air of hfe. Heavenly 
joys over the salvation of the ofPspring whom you have 
encouraged to prefer every thing to God, will render 
needless and even abhorrent the worldly pleasures in 



THE WORLDLING. 



145 



which you now inconsistently indulge. How shall this 
change be brought about ? Know ye, that God has 
manifold ways of. effecting it ; and among these the 
way of trial and affliction. If you are his, he will use 
even this, rather than suffer you to perish. Let our 
eyes be imto the Lord, saying with intense desire, 
" Wilt thou not revive us again, that thy people may 
rejoice in thee 1 " 



10 



VI 



THE SCORNER 



THE SCORNER * 



Peoveebs iii. 34. 
Surely He soorneth the scorners." 

That mode of irreligion whicli the wisest of kings 
so often stigmatizes mider the name of scorning, makes 
itself known in every age. It is the derision of that 
which is good, and has its origin in ignorance, folly, 
and sin. The contempt, sometimes producing ridicule, 
which scoffs at wisdom and holiness, is begotten of 
that pride which "was not made for man," and which 
is hateful to God. To despise that which is heavenly 
is not a lower degree of wickedness, but passes the bor- 
ders of the flagitious. Hence we should regard the 
very beginnings of such a temper with great jealousy, 
and should be wilhng to examine its signs and nature, 

* New York, February 21, 1858. 



250 '^^^ SCOKNEB. 

in order to secure ourselves against its contagion. In 
treating the subject, we shall find it profitable to begin 
with lower degrees of the evil, and thence to trace its 
progress. To laugh or jeer in regard to that which dis- 
pleases us is from a disposition which needs no artificial 
fostering. The opinion of Lord Shaftesbury, that " Ridi- 
cule is the test of falsehood," wiU find few serious de- 
fenders in our day. The laugher's side is not always 
the side of reason ; as we might show by referring to 
the ridicule heaped upon many a great enterprise and 
improvement in science and art ; the satire lasting in 
almost every case until it was put to shame by manifest 
success. That form of impotent contempt wliich we 
call sneer, belongs by pre-eminence to those who are to 
some extent conscious of being least armed with reason. 
Many a mischievous hand can fling the fire-cracker or 
the squib, which could neither wield the sword nor aim 
the rifle. Those were not all heroes who " called for 
Samson out of the prison-house," that he might make 
sport for them. All the world over, the derisive portion 
will be found the weakest ; and this upon solid prin- 
ciples. The love of truth and practice of goodness, 
always allied, have a certain pm-e simphcity and candid 
uprightness which disincline the mind to take pleasure 
in the inferiority of others. Whatever in us is unself- 
ish and benignant revolts against making spoil of a 
neighbour's delinquency. And, with reverence be it 
said, the trait is divine, for " God is mighty and de- 
spiseth not any." Job. xxxvi. 5. But ridicule cast on 



THE SCORNER. 



151 



our fellows proceeds from contempt, and contempt is a 
mode of pride. Hence the lower down ^ve go in the 
scale of morals and civilization, the greater fondness do 
we find for the language of scornful raillery. Little 
minds, incompetent to forge or handle massive links of 
argument, find a petty satisfaction in teazing, cavil, and 
sarcastic irony. The number of such minds is greater 
than that of powerful reasoners and men of insight, and 
we must be content to leave them in the enjoyment of 
their characteristic warfare. Their buzzing assaults on 
rehgion are perpetually reminding one of the lesser but 
annoying plagues of Egypt. And such characters, 
fond of vexatious sayings, and grooving in piquancy as 
they fall into the '' sere and yellow leaf," need much 
grace to keep them from becoming scoffers. 

The evil of ungenerous contempt and acrid censure 
becomes more imminent where there is some pretension 
to wit or humour. Very few of a thousand possess 
wit ; scarcely one of the thousand does not sometimes 
attempt it. Perhaps there has never been an age which 
so overvalued the ludicrous, in speech and literature, as 
this of ours. The populace cries out for what is comic on 
the stage, and on the platform ; and the periodical jour- 
nal is incomplete, unless, like noble houses in the olden 
time, it maintains its clown. The wise man had this in 
his eye, when he said : " As the crackhng of thorns 
under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool. This also is 
vanity." Ecc. vii. 6. We would contentedly leave the 
jester to wear his motley, if he confined his witticism to 



152 TS^ SCORNER. 

his own ring ; but when he brings his gibes and grim- 
aces into the sanctuary of God, and seeks to provoke 
mirth with holy things, we must silence and debar him. 
And yet how common is it to connect divine subjects 
with the ludicrous, and even the burlesque. As true 
wit involves some surprise, some unexpected tm-n, some 
sudden apposition of opposites, that which is false finds 
a certain spurious zest in low, trivial, even \ile sugges- 
tions, forced into contrast with ideas of Eternity and 
God. Therefore, as a har will swear in his common 
talk to add credence to his doubtful word, and a fool 
will throw imprecations into the scale to give weight to 
his feeble reasoning, so your vulgar jester resorts to pro- 
fane abuse of religious objects, that he may startle the 
scrupulous, or extort laughter from the stupid. A 
verse of Scripture, a psalm or hymn, the text of a dis- 
course, or some chance expression in a sermon, serves 
such a one, even with repetition, as a counterfeit coin 
serves a sharper. The mental poverty, the irreverence, 
and even the lewdness, of such pretenders, render them, 
sooner or later, disgusting to all whose judgment is 
worth asking. But their folly and degradation are less 
to be regarded by us than their sin ; for we violate the 
Third Commandment when we trifle with God's name, 
titles, and worship, or when we profane his Word by 
associations which are ludicrous. So that I would 
solemnly charge it upon those who do not wish to de- 
stroy souls, that they shun with pious fear aU tales, an- 
ecdotes, and jests, which defile by their touch any 



THE SCORNER 3^53 

Scriptural passage, and that they avoid the intercourse 
of those debased minds who descend to such resources. 

The great adversary of souls has so many snares for 
the feet of pilgrims, that we cannot be too wary in re- 
gard to the imperceptible passage from what seems in- 
nocent or venial, to what is really wicked. Prom idle 
words about God's holy Scripture, youthful heedless- 
ness is beguiled step by step, into by-paths of positive 
impiety. Satan's emissaries are generally near, ready 
to help on the error. Seducers try their victims first 
by milder approaches ; and he or she who listens with- 
out protest or indignation, is believed to invite further 
liberties. If your unclean but amusing friend finds 
you tolerant of his ridiculous parody on a prophet and 
apostle, or the Lord himself, he will make bold to vent 
a sneer at doctrine, at principle, at law, at the gospel, 
at the veiy Cross of the Blessed Jesus. Beware, my 
youthful friend, how you cross the threshold of irrever- 
ence. The conversation of wicked persons is danger- 
ous, their intimacy is defihng, their settled friendship is 
destructive. Walk not " in the counsel of the ungod- 
ly ;" stand not '' in the way of sinners," lest at length 
you come to sit " in the seat of the scornful." 

The beginnings of all transgression are remote, and 
the descents gradual. The soul would fly back in hor- 
ror, if those extreme turpitudes were proposed, to which 
it will nevertheless come at length. Hence the derision 
of heavenly things must be presented at first under 
some less appalling form. For example, nothing is es- 



154 THE SCORNER. 

teemed more lawful and acceptable in society, than 
ridicule of professing Christians. Their preciseness and 
supposed hypocrisy, their alleged breaches of engage- 
ment, their singularities of life or devotion, especially 
their real failings, backslidings and sins, become almost 
the stock in trade of the small dealer in church scandal. 
One might readily think, from the censor's complacent 
chuckle over the inconsistencies and falls of Christians, 
that every such delinquent was a scape-goat to bear away 
his owTi sms. Every successive generation has had its 
several crop of disparaging or opprobrious names, by 
which to designate God's children, in the dictionary of 
the scorn er. They are the * Zealots,' * Devotees,' ' Pre- 
cisians,' ' Puritans,' * Methodists,' the ' Saints,' the 
' Godly.' " They that sit in the gate, speak against 
me," says the Psalmist, " and I was the song of the 
drunkards." * The gatherings of ungodly men, in all 
ages, have been enlivened by the grateful strain of a de- 
rision aimed at serious and conscientious persons ; and 
the playhouse, a synagogue of Satan, shakes with vo- 
ciferous mirth, when the scruples of pure minds are 
held up to contempt. The prophet declares his separa- 
tion from such assemblages : Jer. xv. 17 : "I sat not 
in the assembly of mockers, nor rejoiced." If there is 
any meaning in what Scripture says of God's special re- 
gard for those who trust in him, let mockers beware 
how they choose them, in their rehgious character, as 
objects of indignity. 

* Ps. Ixix. 12. 



THE SCOENER. ]^55 

Ministers of the Gospel, though in a sense pubhc 
representatives of Christ's cause, are individually as 
open to criticism as any persons on earth. Not only 
are they compassed about vrith human infirmity, they 
are made by their very post pecuharly conspicuous. It 
is not wonderful that they have sustained showers of 
scorning. Especially if they have upheld the majesty 
of law, if they have denounced vice, if they have run 
counter to the fashionable, licentious, apostate Chris- 
tianity of the day, if they have preached the sovereignty 
of God and the gratuity of salvation, they have had 
obloquy and contempt for their lot. Many a shaft is 
aimed at the heart of religion, through the person of 
the ministry ; for he who would be afraid to reproach 
Christ, may attain the same end by satirizing his ser- 
vants. Let the ambassadors of God lift up their voice 
against any prominent abuse, and straightway the jom^- 
nals, which reflect the baser interests and grudges of 
society, will beset their path with greetings like those 
which David received from Shimei, the son of Gera, 
who " came forth, and cursed still as he came, and cast 
stones at David." 2 Sam. xvi. 5. And if the preachers 
of the Word were more fully to discharge their func- 
tion in declaring that gospel which is foolishness to the 
unenhghtened and a stumbling-block to the proud, 
they would be yet more " filled with the scorning 6t 
those that are at ease, and with the contempt of the 
proud." Ps. cxxiii. 4. 

Upon further inquiry, we shall find, however, that 



156 THE SCORNER. 

all this opposition to the persons of Christians, has a 
deeper origin, in hostility to the spirit, principles, and 
life of religion. The pride, the scorn, the contemptuous 
laughter, the mahgnant sneer, which are a sort of per- 
secution, directed against those who uphold Christ's 
cause, are immediate products of depravity, and of the 
carnal mind, which is enmity against God. The an- 
tagonism is one of ages ; nay, it is one pointed out by 
prophecy : " I mil put enmity between thee and the 
woman, and between thy seed and her seed." Cain and 
Abel are types of the scoffing world, and the suffering 
church. The first-born man " was of tliat wicked one, 
and slew his brother. And wherefore slew he him? 
Because his own works were evil, and his brother's 
righteous.'' To which the loving Apostle adds the 
caution : " Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate 
you." 1 John iii. 12, 13. A similar allusion to a typical 
pair of brothers, is indicated by Paul, when he says of 
Ishmael and Isaac : *' But as then, he that was bom 
after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the 
Spirit, even so it is now." Gal. iv. 29. The mutual 
repugnance is radical, being between contraries infinite- 
ly remote, that is, hohness and sin. The modes of ex- 
hibiting this proud hostihty are various. One of the 
most frequent, and that which we are now concerned 
with, is the arrogant derision of what is good, as evinced 
by manner, gesture, language, act, or the silence of bit- 
ter contempt. 

The great standard of right is God's perfect Law, in 



THE SCORNER. 3^57 

whicli all moral excellence is summed up, as light is 
gathered in the sun. Holy minds admire and love the 
law, feeling themselves sweetly and unconstrainedly in 
union with it. Unholy minds are conscious of a secret 
opposition between their natural tastes and the intense 
spirituality of the divine law. Restraining grace, reli- 
gious training, and the common or special influences of 
the Holy Spirit, keep this enmity in a certain abey- 
ance, in those cases where sin has not pushed its victim 
towards the brink of positive impiety. But this brink 
is often fallen over, or at least looked over, by the 
thoughtless, the impure, and the abandoned. A large 
part of the world's sceptical and cavilling attack on the 
code of Christian morals arises from personal immoral- 
ity. Proud selfishness kicks against the goads. What 
though the enemy wears a comic mask ? his sardonic 
laugh is that of hate. The strict requisitions of the 
holy commandment are so distasteful to the self-pleas- 
ing offender, conscious of a crookedness which this 
plummet reveals, that he tries to laugh off the restless 
sentiment of obhgation ; and, but partially succeeding 
in himself, he makes the attempt with others. Ridicule 
of God's commandments, or of the just fears, scruples 
and tender doubts of our neighbour, is a sign that the 
soul harbours inward hatred of the law. " It was a 
severe retort which a young man lately made to an in- 
fidel, who was speaking against the divine legation of 
Moses. He had made many objections to the charac- 
ter of that holy man ; and the young Christian said to 



158 THE SCORNER. 

him : ' There is something in the history of Moses that 
will warrant your opposition to him more than any 
thing you have yet said.' What could this be ? 'He 
wrote the Ten Commandments/ '' * Read parallel proofs 
of the immoral soil out of which scoffing grows, in the 
unholy lines of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Paine. 

This uneasiness of conscience, in regard to precept 
and prohibition, when it concurs with self-conceit, 
haughtiness, and a low talent for impudent reply, con- 
stitutes the genuine scoffer of Solomon's photograph. 
You see his demeanour under criticism, advice, repri- 
mand, and expostulation. Pride causes him to take his 
friend for an enemy ; he is regardless of the truth ut- 
tered ; inimical to the parent, the minister, the brother, 
the elder associate, the wife of his bosom ; if any one 
of these dares to touch his sore, he resents the sup- 
posed affront with words of bitter ridicule. Behold thy 
likeness, O, misguided sinner ! "A scorner heareth not 
rebuke." " A scorner loveth not one who reproveth 
him." "Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee." 
"He that reproveth a scorner, getteth to himself 
shame." t In all these, and in other places cited, the 
same Hebrew word is used. It involves the notions 
of vanity, mocking, treating with mimicry and iUusory 
speeches, satire, sneer, sarcasm, irony, and reckless disre- 
gard. The counterpart of this picture is in many a 
household, as many a disappointed father, many a heart- 

* Life of Dr. Waugh. t Pro v. xiii. 1, ix. 7, 8. 



THE SCORNER. 159 

sick mother knows full well. Up to a certain age, 
children, unless precociously vile, yield themselves in 
docile comphance to the parental voice. But, alas ! ex- 
cept where Grace has early wrought, there comes a dis- 
agreeable crisis, of greater or less duration. Pamily 
training arrives at the stage first of shyness, then of for- 
wardness, sometimes of bitterness. The foohsh boy, 
governed more by companions of the school or the 
street, than by his wisest, dearest protectors, sets up to 
be wiser than his father. The frivolous, vain, selfish 
girl, corrupted by the daughters of the ungodly, from 
whom she takes her tone at some fashionable but hea- 
thenish school, turns upon the mother who bare her, 
and tosses the head, with imaginary knowledge of the 
world, and disgust at old-time maxims of modesty. 

It were well if intolerance of rebuke were confined 
to childhood and youth ; but we encounter it in every 
stage of life. Though one of the sincerest acts of true 
friendship is the bringing into the right way of one 
who has strayed, it is nevertheless true that, in things 
moral and religious, scarcely any one rehshes attempts 
to lead him back from wandering, or to prevent his fly- 
ing from the track. Tell your neighbour that his house 
is too gaudily furnished, that his children are sadly per- 
verse, or that he himself drinks too much wine, and is 
drowsy and muddled after dinner, and you run the risk 
of losing an acquaintance for your pains. If to this 
you should add serious admonition respecting his eter- 
nal state, and the need of preparation for death, you 



]^5Q THE SCORNER. 

would be Ekely to have in return severe jesting, if not 
scoffs. 

"Pools make a mock at sin." The enemy of souls 
continually allures them towards the persuasion, that it 
is a small evil. Who can believe that yonder timid 
youth, flushing with the colours of Virtue, will one day 
laugh to scorn the reprovers of his profaneness or his 
dissipation ? Yet we see such changes every day. 
Society is always suffering from perverse banter and 
coarse humour, directed against rigid morals. The 
thefts, defalcations, peculations, forgeries, fraudulent es- 
capes from obligation, full hving on other men's money, 
and filthy purchase of votes and verdicts, wliich are 
at once the opprobrium and the rottenness of certain 
classes in modern society, are fostered and brought into 
development by what young men hear in the houses 
where their business hes ; by jokes, which imply that a 
clever operation is worth some moral risk ; by pleas- 
antries about lying and stealing, under decent names ; 
and by contemptuous pity of the tortoise-hke habits of 
a former age. Let us in justice observe, that we have, 
in the highest places in the world of trade, men whose 
names are unsullied, and whose voice authorized by 
experience, would, if permitted, chastise the sharper 
and the villain, under whatever garb of mocking and 
persiflage he might lurk. Such animadversion is use- 
ful to those who look on ; as indeed is the detection of 
every arrogant pretender. " Smite a scorner, and the 
simple will beware; and reprove one that hath un- 



THE SCORNER. ]^02 

derstanding, and lie will understand knowledge." And 
again, " AVlien the scorner is punished, the simple 
is made wise." The pubhc award is generally right 
and final, in respect to one who has distinguished him- 
self by sneer, sarcasm, and arrogance ; for, as Solomon 
says, "the scorner is an abomination to men." Prov. 
xxiv. 9. 

It is not easy to stop upon the downward slide of 
sin ; and hence he who begins with trifling and badi- 
nage, upon subjects of duty and grace, will descend, un- 
less divinely stayed, to the degree of undervaluing his 
own danger, and making Hght of God's threatenings. 
This is the foolhardiness of transgression. There is a 
sublime, silent delay about the Divine Justice, which 
leaves rash sinners under the delusion, that, against a 
Lawgiver so longsuffering, they may offend with impu- 
nity. If every Cain were marked the very instant he 
shed blood, and every Ananias struck dead upon the 
utterance of his lie, scoffing at judgments would be im- 
possible. But the awful tread of justice is slow, and so 
the depraved soul grows bold. " Because sentence against 
an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the 
heart of the sons of men is fully set in them, to do evil." 
Conscience sleeps, and therefore the sinner thinks the 
sin is not on record. " He hath said in his heart, God 
hath forgotten : he hideth his face : he will never see 
it." Ps. X. 11. In Ezekiel's time, the idolaters who 
polluted the very temple-chambers by secret imagery, 

said, " The Lord seeth us not -, the Lord hath forsaken 
11 



the earth." The same folly and wickedness bear like 
fruits in later days ; and when these depraved tempers 
find vent in words, and corresponding demeanour, we 
have the Scorner named in divine threatenings 

Unbelief and unholy daring may attain such a 
height, as madly to try their strength not only with 
menaced, but with actual wrath; and creatures have 
been found, who, amidst the falling bolts of judgment, 
have stood out against the Creator and Judge in arms. 
A cheat, of course, is, in such cases, put upon oneself, 
as if there were a chance of escape after all ; or, as if 
these inflictions were not judgments for sin ; or, which 
is more common, as if infinite mercy would at length 
remit. When scornful offenders laugh at war, famine, 
pestilence, and other tokens of divine displeasure against 
sin, whether national or individual, denying all provi- 
dence in such events, and baring the head to receive 
any storm from such quarter, they only re-enact the 
part of ancient unbelievers, who cried, " The evil shall 
not overtake nor prevent us." Amos ix. 10. 

But on whatsoever side we turn, we find exposures 
of the fundamental evil, on which all these contempts re- 
pose, as all later formations on the primitive base. It is 
depravity of mind and heart in regard to Almighty God ; 
disbelief of his being ; derogation from his attributes ; 
forgetfulness of his presence; disregard of his infinite 
purity; hardihood > towards his awful justice; in a 
word, it is practical atheism which makes the scorner. 
" Wherefore doth the wicked contemn God ? he hath 



THE SCORNER. "163 

said in his lieai-t, Tliou vnlt not require it." Ps. x. 13. 
Every form of sin involves something of the horrid evils 
just named ; for who could sin under the thorough and 
constant influence of right views and feelings towards 
the Divine Majesty ? " Thou God seest me," so far as 
it sinks into the heart, is a preservative against trans- 
gression. But sin begets sin ; yea, one sin begets 
numberless sins, and one violation of law and con- 
science, leads to other violations, and these to more, tiU 
the fearful progression ends in open profligacy, insult to 
the Eternal King, and speedy destruction. No one knows, 
when initiated into some lower degree of Satan's lodge, 
whether he may not penetrate to the highest. This 
makes it dangerous to parley with temptation. Judi- 
cial blindness befalls those who voluntarily put out the 
light of education and conscience^ One sin, in God's 
awful judgment, becomes the punishment of another. 
The crime which the youthful sinner now looks at with 
shuddering, as it stands before him in his path, he may 
one day see behind him, among the dim, cloudy begin- 
nings of his career, the earhest steps of his enormous 
transgression. It is a greater evil to scoff at the reh- 
gion of others, than to be simply irrehgious ourselves. 
Many ties must be rent, many walls overleaped, and 
many guards cut down, before the race of evil at- 
tains to open derision of truth and duty. Oppo- 
sition to God's spiritual agency, and ascription of 
Christ's words to the Evil One, accompanied with de- 
liberate utterance of the same, in scoffing language, 



Ig4 THE SCORNER. 

constituted tliat blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, 
which hath no forgiveness, either in this world or that 
which is to come. And he who treads under foot the 
Son of God, and counts his blood unholy, " hath done " 
so it is written, "despite unto the Spirit of grace." 
Heb. X. 29. Those, therefore, who are tempted to 
make merry with divine realities, with the Word of 
Salvation, Avith the work of the Holy Ghost in the re- 
vival of clim^ches and the conversion of sinners ; espe- 
cially those who, from levity, folly, inconsideration, def- 
erence to bad example, or temporary gMsts of pride 
and passion, indulge themselves in ridiculing such as 
begin to seek the salvation of the soul, should beware 
in time, lest, abandoned to themselves, they make ship- 
wreck of all principle, and find their lot among hopeless 
scofiers. " Judgments are prepared for scorners, and 
stripes for the back of fools." Having thus tempted 
Satan, they may be led by him into an incapacity of be- 
lieving ; having sneered at all that is pm^e, august and 
heavenly, they may, amidst the ruins of their faith, be 
haunted by spectres of multiform doubt ; having chal- 
lenged God to forsake them, they may spend their de- 
chne in ever learning, yet never coming to the knowledge 
of the truth ; for, " a scorner seeketh wisdom, and find- 
eth it not." And these are cautions peculiarly needful 
at times when the Spirit of God manifests his agency 
in the chm'ches, humbhng and melting behevers, and 
convincing the impenitent ; and when, likewise, Satan, 
in his prime character, as adversary and arch-scorner, is 



THE SCORNER. 



165 



busy, breatliing into his children, at the corners of the 
streets, in the haunts of vice, and alas, in the editorial 
chair, foul blasphemies, which may turn away men from 
the great salvation. We have no fear for the church of 
the Hving God, from the mocking laughter of surround- 
ing foes ; though " they return at evening," " make a 
noise like a dog, and go round about the city." Ps. lix. 
The people of God will still rejoice in his power, which 
shall lead them on to triumph. But, for the scoffers 
themselves, we tremble ; and are ready to address them 
in the words- of Paul at Antioch : " Behold, ye despi- 
sers, and wonder and perish ; for I work a work in 
your days, a work which ye shall in no wise believe, 
though a man declare it unto you." Acts xiii. 41. It 
is a dreadful fah, from haughty scorning of God's ways, 
down to grovelling vice and drivelling falsehood : such 
contrasts have we seen. The freethinker and the here- 
tic, after deriding the mysteries of Scripture and the in- 
spiration of prophets, have sat down to prate of endless, 
unintelligible dreams, and to sit at the feet of spiritual 
mediums, so named in their jargon. Safer, my breth- 
ren in the Lord, is it to trust in Him, " that frustrateth 
the tokens of the hars, and maketh diviners mad ; who 
tm^neth mse men backward, and maketh their know- 
ledge foolish." Isaiah xliv. 25. O pray to God, beloved 
hearer, that he would keep your conscience tender, and 
your mind reverent, lest from one degree of profane 
scorning you proceed to another, and at length reach 
the point of those who crucify the Son of God afresh, 



IQQ THE SCORNEE. 

and put him to an open shame. At present, you think 
this acme of impiety far from you, and so I trust it still 
is. But consider, I pray you, who it is that holds you 
back from such enormities, and shrink from every form, 
or sentiment, or speech, which could grieve that Spirit of 
grace. " Quench not the Spirit," in yourselves or in 
others. And that you may make all sm^e, turn your 
back upon the world, the flesh, and the devil, and, go- 
ing to the Lord Jesus, take him as your Saviour, 
Teacher, and King. 



VII. 

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 



SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE 
FATHER.* 



JOKCJ iii. 16. 

" For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, 
that whosever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever- 
lasting life." 

What verse of Scripture is more deeply engraved 
on oiu' memory ? Where is a passage to "be fomid 
wMcli has been more frequently uttered in Christian 
assembhes ? Is there one which more fully comprises 
the essence of the Gospel plan ? Or could we choose a 
divine saying of our Lord better suited to guide and 
elevate our thoughts ? 

Here is Jesus speaking of himself, and declaring 
why he came from heaven to earth. Here is the pro- 
vision of mercy traced up to its eternal fountain, in the 

* New York, May 16, 1852. 



]^70 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

infinite benevolence of the Most High. Here is the 
river of compassion \videning towards all nations. Here 
is the door of escape set wide open, from hell to heaven. 
And here is the direction how any willmg sonl may 
gain entrance to that way. My brethren, it is matter 
which interests us all ; for we are all unholy and sub- 
ject to condemnation ; we are all in jeopardy ; we are 
all hastening to death, yet naturally desirous of ever- 
lasting happiness. And in these words we have a 
Saviour offered to all. The subject is God's love, and 
the method by which this love may become our per- 
sonal salvation. If God should vouchsafe to carry the 
truth home to your heart this day, he would thus make 
it a temple of the Holy Ghost. And I affirm without 
hesitation, that the words of my text, if received in their 
spiritual meaning and with firm persuasion, are able to 
make you wise unto salvation through faith that is in 
Christ Jesus. 

Does God the Father really love the world of sin- 
ners ? and what is the character of this love ? These are 
the questions which we have to answer. We may vague- 
ly assent to the existence of such love without deeply en- 
tering into its grandeur. Accompany me, while we 
consider, first, the reality of this love, and secondly, its 
degree. Both are exhibited by means of a great and 
marvellous gift. 

I. The REALITY or THE PaTHEr's LOVE TO THE 
WORLD IS SHOWN BY HIS GIVING HIS SoN. The WOrds 



SALTATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ]^7][ 

upon whicli we have come to meditate set forth this 
great and overwhelming argument for the love of God : 
He gave his Son. Small words sometimes contain vast 
meaning. In the solemn act of worship called an oath, 
and in the form of it so often uttered and heard with 
lightness and uTeverence, So help you God, the im- 
mense weight of the imprecation lies in the shortest 
monosyllable so ; that is, may Almighty God so help 
you, or the reverse, as you now declare the truth. In 
Hke manner the text revolves on the same brief adverb, 
as the principal hinge of its significancy. By what 
proof or evidence are we convinced that God loved the 
world ? And how great was this love ? The answer 
is, God so loved the world that he gave his only-begot- 
ten Son. This is the demonstration of the love in its 
reality, and the measure of the love in its greatness. 
And if God so loved the world as to make a sacrifice 
of infinite value, the love is such that it passeth knowl- 
edge. 

The heathen had no such being in their crude my- 
thology as a God of pure love. When the philosophers 
revolted against the incredible and corrupting fables of 
tradition and poetry, they formed various conceptions 
of a Supreme Intelligence ; but the best of them fell 
infinitely short of the idea which a young child in 
Christian households acquires of a Being, infinite, eter- 
nal and unchangeable in wisdom, power, justice, truth, 
and goodness. As soon as we think of One Avho has 
aU perfections, we think of One who is benevolent. 



172 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

and if we add the conception of this Supreme Existence 
as coming forth from the sohtude of his eternal majesty 
to create inteUigent spirits, we immediately, as by a 
necessity of reason, conclude that he loves the creatures 
whom he has made. If we could stop here, all would 
be free from difficulty. 

If we could truly regard the Most High as not only 
benevolent, but nothing besides ; as loving every object, 
whether good or evil ; as possessing no moral discrimi- 
nation, as acting only and forever towards the happiness 
of all he has made ; we should look with confidence 
toward the awful future of eternity, as assured that, 
whether pure or sinful, we should be made blessed for- 
ever. And some take this view ; thus founding on a 
partial idea of divine excellence the destructive scheme 
of universal salvation. But on this hypothesis we can 
never explain the enigma of the universe. If God 
Avere all love, and in such a sense as to be nothing but 
love ; if God had no end in creation but to make his 
creatures happy, there would of course be no unhappi- 
ness in the world. The proof that such a view is false, 
stares us in the face on which side soever we turn our 
eyes. Por is the existing earth, to go no further, fuQ 
of unmingled bliss ? Answer ye, who pass lifetimes of 
sorrow ; ye millions of sufferers by disease, war, and a 
thousand deaths. The fact, as we see it and feel it, 
disproves the assumption that God has no other prin- 
ciple of government than that of promoting universal 
happiness. Unless, indeed, we deny his sovereignty, 



SALA^ATIOIN" TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 



173 



diminish liis perfection, ascribe the present state to 
some rival divinity, and thus upturn the very basis of 
all religion, natural and revealed. If God's sole object 
in creation had been to secure the absence of all unhap- 
piness, no sound mind mil deny that he had power to 
effect it. If, as the fact shows, the case is tremendously 
the reverse, we have no escape from the conclusion, that 
along with the disposition to make his creatures hap- 
py, there were other divine attributes which allowed 
the possibility of pain. We must affirm this, or else 
refuse God's permission to the present state, or deny 
the perfections or very being of a God. As we shrink 
from these dreadful tenets of chance and atheism, we 
are forced to bow down and acknowledge that our 
plummet cannot sound the depths of the divine immen- 
sity. We must own, with adoring fear, that the Infinite 
One has reasons of awful state why even misery should 
be allowed to enter his dominions. And we justly look 
for these reasons in those other attributes of Jehovah, 
which are revealed no less clearly than his goodness. 

God is infinitely holy. He is so by the eternal 
necessity of his nature. He cannot den/ himself. He 
is and must be forever opposed to all sin. It is his 
very nature, it is of the essence of his Godhead, to stand 
in eternal opposition to moral evil. All moral good is 
such simply because it conforms, we need not say to 
a divine command, but to the divine nature, as its 
standard. All moral e^dl is such, because it deviates 
from this eternal standard. But the two are necessarily 



274 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

and everlastingly opposed to one another. The ^dll of 
God, which is our Law, is only the effluence of this 
eternal nature ; and hence, creatures remaining the 
same, we cannot conceive of the law as otherwise than 
it is, or of a law demanding the opposite of what it now 
demands, or as demanding less than it now demands ; 
in other words, less than perfection. This tendency of 
God's nature to demand conformity in moral creatures, 
belongs to his essential glory, and we call it his Justice. 
It is not for us to ask why He created man ; or why 
he created him a free agent, or what is the same thing, 
capable of sinning. He has done so ; and shall not the 
Judge of all the earth do right ? We might deem it 
wiser and hoher to make a world in which no sin and 
no pain could ever exist ; but that such a purpose was 
not necessarily demanded by God's holiness, we learn 
assuredly from the fact that God actually designed the 
world which we see. There may be reasons, nay there 
must be reasons, aU unknown to us, why the greatest 
glory of God is, after all, most promoted by the very 
irregularities which we deplore. 

Still it abides true, that our Lord is a God of love. 
No one attribute conflicts with any other. When free 
creatures, and creatures are not moral beings unless 
free, in the exercise of their freedom sin and fall, 
the consequence is misery. Let us not quarrel with 
this arrangement. The connexion of sin and misery 
may, for all we know, be as necessary as the connexion 
between the absence of Hght and the presence of dark- 



SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 3^75 

ness. Many things in our own experience, lead us to 
believe this to be so. We are never bappy when we 
sin. Suppose a law given, the misery consequent on 
violating this law fixed as a penalty ; the Word of God 
uttered to declare this connexion ; and we at once be- 
hold God's Justice and his Truth committed on the side 
of HoHness, and against the sinner. Thus far we gain 
no rehef by clinging to the assertion that God is good. 
It is trae, eternally true. But how do we know that 
even Benevolence, on a large scale, may not be glori- 
fied by the punishment of obstinate offenders, when, 
even in civil society, cases occur in which the destruc- 
tion of one hfe promotes the salvation of many ? But 
these are mysteries which we are not called upon to 
resolve. Secret things belong unto God. The Justice 
and Truth of God are as clearly revealed as his good- 
ness and mercy. They must not be thrown into oppo- 
sition, but must forever co-exist. And the great all- 
important deduction which we should make, for the 
guidance of our thoughts, is, that if Mercy be ever dis- 
played, it mil be in such a way as shall hold up Justice 
and Holiness with undiminished and equal splendour. 
This is, indeed, the key to the whole Gospel, which is 
none other than a device of Infinite Wisdom to repair 
the evils of the fall, and thus show forth all the com- 
minghng perfections of God in magnificent and adora- 
ble harmony. All hues blend with consummate beauty 
in the rainbow aromid the throne. To eff'ect this har- 
mony was the intention of the most extraordinary 



176 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

transaction in the earth^s history, namely, that He who 
made it died upon it. The difficulty must have been 
great which made so extreme a method necessary. No 
physical difficulty can be imagined in regard to God, 
for he is Omnipotent. By an act of sovereign will he 
could translate all souls from heaven to hell, or from 
hell to heaven. The obstacle to such a transaction can 
be none but a moral one. There is a sort of impropriety 
in asserting any such thing as difficulty, where God is 
concerned ; but human language can do no better. It 
is only a way of saying, that to do this or that would 
be for God to deny himself. 

Even in our own cucle of experience, different prin- 
ciples within us may thus come into seeming conflict. 
The Judge may have to pass sentence on one whom he 
pities; here justice has to settle it with compassion. 
The parent is often called to punish the child whom he 
loves. It is easy for us to say that God might freely 
pardon any sinner, or all sinners, without any interven- 
tion or propitiation. I prefer at this time to rest on 
the reply — and it admits of no contradiction — ^that God 
has done otherwise, and has so proved that there was 
no other way. One thing, indeed, the Supreme Law- 
giver and Judge might have done. He might have 
suffered the sentence to become absolute ; have shut 
the door of pardon ; and have turned away from the 
world of sinners, and left them to whirl away into the 
infinite spaces of increasing sin and misery. No man 
can say this would have been unjust, unless he is pre- 



SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ], '^'J' 

pared to say that the law was unjust ; for this was the 
demand of law. Especially might the offended Sove- 
reign have so done, when the mode of doing otherwise 
involved the most stupendous sacrifice. And why not? 
Why did Divine Wisdom and Holiness pause, and sus- 
pend the lifted sword of vengeance ? Why did heavenly 
condescension look upon ruined men ? Oh, my breth- 
ren, it was because Love, boundless Love, stayed the 
hand of Justice, held the bolt of fiery retribution, and 
interposed itself between the descending edge and our 
condemned souls. If God were all Justice, and he is 
as truly just as loving, no redemption had been possible. 
If God had been all Love, and he is as truly loving as 
he is just, no redemption had been necessary. But be- 
cause He is both Justice and Mercy, and because Jus- 
tice demanded satisfaction, and Mercy pleaded for re- 
mission, '' Righteousness and Peace kissed each other ;" 
and Love hung on the arm of paternal severity, while 
Wisdom pointed out a method to reconcile both. 

To our poor limited faculties, this has to be repre- 
sented under figm^e of a conflict of attributes ; but, in 
reahty, there is no conflict in God. To our apprehen- 
sion, there seems a series of counsels and a change of 
plan ; but there is neither succession nor mutation in 
God. Still the highest philosophy commands us to 
abide by the childlike expressions of the Bible. We 
shall never comprehend this mystery better than when, 
as in our early days, we regard God as angry against 
sm, yet desiring not the death of the sinner. This love 

12 



178 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

for sinners must have been unutterably great, or there 
had been no such event as the Crucifixion. 

And let me with more than ordinary earnestness 
implore you not to misapprehend this love, by an error 
which is common among shallow theologians. I intend 
those, who think of God the Father as less loving than 
the Son ; as more rigorously just than the Son ; as in 
some sort a relentless and implacable sovereign; as 
originating no tender mercies, and thirsting for the 
blood of vengeance, till appeased by the Son. Into 
such extremes some may be led by the inadequacy of 
all earthly words and figures to represent heavenly 
realities. No, beloved brethren, the God of our text, 
who gives his Son, is God the Father. He is as 
clearly the God of Love. There is no conflict be- 
tween the Father and the Son ; and there is a divine 
harmony in their acts ; for whatsoever things the 
Father doth, those doth the Son likewise. The adora- 
ble Son of God is co-equal in infinite justice and hatred 
of sin. The adorable Father is boundless in love and 
compassion. From him came the whole scheme of 
salvation. " For God so loved the world, that he gave 
his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life." Thus far 
have we dwelt mainly on the reahty of this love. True, 
this it was impossible to do, without frequent glimpses of 
its degree ; but now more particularly let us bring this 
into review, by meditating with you on the extent of this 
divine love, as manifested in its grand testimonial. 



SALVATIO^T TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. j^'j'g 

II. The greatness of the Father's love to the 

WORLD is shown BY HIS GIVING THE SON. Not that 

you or I, or angels above us, can take the gauge and 
dimensions of tliis divinity of goodness. With us they 
look into the chasm, with folded wings, and murmur. 
Oh, the depth, the depth ! Yet, again, they learn 
enough to burst forth into chorus, while the shining 
retinue, reaching from earth to heaven, breaks forth in 
the doxology, " Glory to God in the highest, and peace 
on earth, good-will to men ! " Love is measured by its 
gifts and sacrifices. Greater love hath no man than 
this, that a man lay down his life for his friend. God's 
love is measm-ed by the gift and sacrifice of his Son. 
But while we repeat and adopt the words, who will 
assume to comprehend them ! God gave his Son, but 
who can take the measurement of the gift ? for who can 
ascend to the height of his glory, or descend to the 
depth of his humiliation ? Who hath entered into the 
dread chamber and pavilion of that eternity before all 
worlds, in which the Only-Begotten, who is in the 
bosom of the Father, dwelt in the plenitude of the 
triune bliss, the Word, which was with God, which 
was God ? Lose yourself as you may in the dehghtful 
contemplation of this wonderful glory, you are still baf- 
fled in every essay to gaze more nearly into the empy- 
rean majesty, or seize the dazzhng hues of that transac- 
tion, when it was decreed in council that God should 
become man. Yet with reverent intentness of adoring 
thought, we may, through a veiling cloud, discern so 



130 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

mucli as the Spirit has seen fit to intimate. No man 
knoweth the Son but the Father, and he to whom the 
Father shall reveal him. From the recesses of that 
miapproachable glory, " dark with excessive light," pro- 
ceeds a voice which syllables the sentence dear to every 
penitent and thankful soul, " God so loved the world 
that he gave his only-begotten Son." Here are tones 
which cause the inmost chords of humanity to vibrate. 

The word Son carries its peculiar touching charm 
to any parental heart. An " only Son," is of all phrases 
that which wakes affectionate yearning here about our 
sinful hearths. Faint shadows are these of the things 
in heaven. He who has chosen to be known as Father, 
has chosen to reveal the eternal Word as Son, and as 
''the Only-Begotten of the Father." Divine paternity 
is inscrutable. Divine love is as far above human love, 
as God is above the creature. Yet we were made in 
his image, in order to know a httle of his heart ; and 
the sentiment, though vastly unequal, is the same in the 
points intended to be beheved. 

God gave his Son. In intention and decree he 
gave him. In covenant he gave him. Looking on man 
as helplessly faUen, he gave him, as purposing him to 
be man's Saviour. In the garden of Eden, now stained 
with deadly sin, he gave him, and anticipated the words 
of curse by words of blessing. Throughout the tedi- 
ous tracts of the long Judaic night, when clouds and 
transient rays struggled together, in a coloured haze of 
types and vision, he gave him, the Messiah yet to come. 



SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^g]^ 

But fully and actually and witli transcendent love lie 
gave him, wlien the Word became flesh and dwelt among 
us, full of grace and truth. And then, consummating 
the boon of eternal destination, he gave hun, when, 
amidst a quaking earth and a shrouded heaven, it 
pleased the Lord to bruise him, when his sword awoke 
against the Man that was his fellow ; and when Justice, 
as a weapon of death, steeped itself in the heart of 
humanity embraced by Godhead, and the Holy One, 
at the acme of his dying pangs, cried. It is fin- 
ished. 

The thoughts need repose after such a contempla- 
tion. Sit down, oh believer; sit down with the beloved 
John, and with the Marys, amidst the effusion of the 
water and the blood, and tell, if you can, the magnitude 
of this affection. It is divine. " Herein is love, not 
that we loved God, but that God loved us and gave his 
Son." 

Would you feel it more ? Look in that other direc- 
tion, to the damned world. Measure the sin and sorrow 
of a state which but for this sacrifice had been yours 
and mine. That we should not perish but have eternal 
life, was the motive of this gift. Raise your eyes to that 
" eternal life," and meditate the glory and the bhss, till 
you somewhat forget the seductive pleasures of time. 
All this is signified by the gift of God's only-begotten 
Son. Once more turn inward and attempt an estimate 
of your own demerit. " God commendeth his love to 
us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for 



X32 SALVATION TKACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

US ! " What ! still unrelenting ! Are no gentle affec- 
tions stirred within you, this day, by God's chief argu- 
ment ? With what can we hope to move you ? Be- 
hold here the hell you have deserved and sought ; the 
heaven surpassing your most adventurous imagining ; 
the Cross of Jesus, where the just God becomes the 
Saviour. This is the great sight which has melted the 
hearts of all generations of those who have been saved. 
And I have yet to add, if I would not withhold the 
principal theme of my commission, that God the 
FatJ/er gives the Only-T^egotten Son tJiis day in the 
offer of the Gospel. To you is the word of this sal- 
vation sent. The great atoning action was not to be 
concealed, but to be published to all nations for the 
obedience of faith. There is no restriction. To whom 
do I hear you ask, is this offer tendered? To the 
world, I answer ; to all who hear the " word of the 
truth of the Gospel." To you who have come hither 
this inorning; to eveiy one of you; from the hoary 
despiser to the babe who only begins to comprehend 
the words. By whom may it be accepted ? By sin- 
ners. " This is a faithful saying, and worthy of aU 
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to 
save sinners." If the greatest offender of aU. the sons 
of men were to rise revealed as such in this assembly, 
I am authorised to address him as included in this invi- 
tation of abounding grace. This Gospel was preached 
first at Jerusalem, and made known to those who cru- 
cified the Lord of glory. " Therefore," cried Peter to 



SALYATION" TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ]^g3 

the Pentecostal multitude, " let all the house of Israel 
(the very nation which had committed this sin of sins) 
know assuredly, that God hath made this same Jesus, 
whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ." The 
apostle's declaration, and all subsequent preaching, have 
held forth the same Gospel, or good news of God's love 
in giving his Only-Begotten Son. By this alone have 
perishing souls, in all ages of the dispensation of grace, 
obtained eternal life ; and the proffer is now to you. 
To you, my hearer, however hardened in your sins and 
however destitute of all right feelings, this way of im- 
mediate escape is held out. The fountain which burst 
forth from the rock smitten at Golgotha continues to 
foUow the march of our desert pilgrimage; and the 
terms are, as of old, " Whosoever will, let him take the 
water of life freely." 

Before closing the service, I must lay before you, in 
few words, one provision of my text. It concerns the 
mode of becoming interested in this gracious gift of 
God. The mode is by believing ; " that whosoever 
believeth in him should not perish," etc. Gospel faith 
is the cordial believing of this message. Some of you, 
let me joyfully think, have already beheved, do now 
believe. Your language is, " This is my beloved, and 
this is my friend. He found me fainting in the wilder- 
ness. He Kfted my head. He spake words of com- 
fort to me. He strengthened me with strength in my 
soul, xind all this he did by pouring a flood of light 
on his own person and work, by making this great ob- 



134 SALVATION TEACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 

ject stand fortli prominent and luminous, that is, by 
working in me faith." 

But there are others whose language is, " Nothing 
is more mysterious to me than the saving character of 
faith. I beheve these truths ; and yet I find no reHef 
for my burden." To such a one I must, in all respect 
and love, speak a word of contradiction. No, my 
anxious hearer, you do not believe the Gospel. Or, at 
at any rate, since there are degrees in faith, you believe 
but faintly. You have been looking too long and too 
much at self, and too little at the Saviour. If you be- 
heved that God so loved the world, you would see 
and know that even for you there is room in the bosom 
of infinite Compassion. If you beheved that Christ 
Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and by speci- 
fication, the chief of sinners, you would see salvation 
brought home to your ovm heart. If you believed that 
Grace is abounding, free, present, made over by gift to 
just such as you, in all yom^ hardness and all your 
guilt, and that the very first saving act is that of acqui- 
escence in this gratuity, you would gaze with wonder 
and gratitude on the pierced hands and feet and the 
opened side, and would exclaim with Thomas, My Lord 
and My God ! If you believed, you would turn aw^ay 
from the study of your wretched self, and being all 
absorbed in another object, resplendent, soul-entrancing 
and divine, would joyfuUy cry, '' God forbid that I should 
glory, save in this." And it is just because you stiU re- 
fuse to let go your hold of sometliing within you ; be- 



SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^§5 

cause you doubt tlie capacity of Clirist's love to embrace 
you as you are ; in a word, because you do not believe, 
that you persist in perishing v^/ith a condemned world. 
The difficulty does not lie in any want of atoning 
love or gracious provision. The sacrifice has been 
made ; it is infinitely pleasing to God -, it is accepted ; 
it can never be repeated ; it can never be added to ; it 
stands before the universe in immutable, consummate 
glory. Nor does the difficulty lie in the nature of faith, 
as though it were complicated, mysterious, or unintelli- 
gible ; it is one of the very simplest actings of the hu- 
man soul. But it lies in this, that you do not apprehend 
in a spiritual manner the precious, the ever-blessed 
truth to be believed. You see God under a false aspect, 
as a hard, exacting Lawgiver and a relentless Judge. 
You look on Christ as coming to you with some legal 
conditions to be fulfilled in you, before He can be 
yours. And justly conscious that such conditions are 
wanting in you, you stay away from the fountain of hfe, 
and will forever stay away, tih the light of God dawns 
on your erring mind. Now, my sorrowing friend and 
hearer, now you have arrived at what is perhaps a critical 
point in your history. WiU you flee to Jesus Christ to- 
day ? Will you perish, or wiU you believe ? Whatever 
is your determination, note it when you go home ; " This 
day I have chosen Christ," or " This day I have rejected 
him.'' Por it is noted in heaven. 



VIII. 

DYING FOE FRIENDS 



DYING FOR FRIENDS * 



John xv. 13, 14. 



" Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life 
for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I com- 
mand you." 

Friendship is a sacred word, belonging as truly 
to Christianity as to morals. It is such a relation of 
man to man, that from mutual esteem,* admiration and 
attachment, rather than from regard to interest, each 
contemplates the person of the other with complacency 
and benevolence, each desires the welfare of the other, 
and dehghts in his company ; and consequently each is 
ready to fulfil the wishes of the other and to make sa- 
crifices for his pleasure. It is a flowing of soul to soul. 
It is — so says the Roman adage — to will and to refuse the 
same tilings. Wretched is he, who cannot go to expe- 
rience for his definition ; for " poor is the friendless 

* New York, March 13, 1853. 



190 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

master of a world ! " We need not go to the Damon 
and Pytliias of Gentile story, or even to the touching 
records of David and Jonathan in the Old Testament. 
The Gospel assures us, that in the circle around our 
Lord, there was one disciple whom Jesus loved, friend- 
ship never rose to so sanctified an exaltation. We do 
well, therefore, against certain perverse philosophers, to 
include friendship among the Christian virtues, and to 
practise it in the daily intercourse of life. Even in 
common society, its triumphs are sometimes beautiful 
and ennobling, but it is nowhere so pure and unearthly, 
as where it subsists between souls which have been 
touched by the Spirit of God. Then it is a fountain 
which wells forth from the Cross of the heavenly Priend. 
But we are this day to ascend a yet loftier eminence, 
and to contemplate a friendship which exists between 
Christ and the believer. The word seems to acquire a 
new and heavenlier acceptation, when we apply it to 
Him who is above all blessing and all praise. And 
this we shall do, in meditating on the delightful words 
of the text. 

This relation then of friendship is sustained by the 
Lord Jesus to his people. His whole life was a series 
of blessed friendships. There are no pictures of at- 
tachment hke those of Bethany and the upper chamber. 
The Twelve, the Seventy, the holy women who compa- 
nied with him, the thousands of less distinguished dis- 
ciples, all stood to him in the relation of friends. It 
was not merely John, who reclined on his bosom, or 



DYIXa FOR FRIENDS. ^Q]^ 

James and Cephas who shared his more sacred re- 
tirements, or Lazarus whom he loved, or Mary and 
Martha who ministered to him ; but all who hearkened 
to his words and sought his companionship. He was 
so unhke us who preach his gospel in degenerate times, 
that he associated visibly and at the banquets of the 
Pharisaic great, with persons who had lost their charac- 
ter, and was designated as the friend of publicans and 
sinners. To every diversity of people he showed him- 
self accessible ; as mdeed he is, still the most accessible 
being in the universe. The most abject offender against 
pmity felt reassured by his forgiving rebuke, and the 
very leper cast out of human habitations, and the de- 
moniac haunting tombs and charnel-houses, ventured to 
accost him. How much more near, and delicate, and 
solemn, and rapturous must have been the interviews 
^^dth his chief disciples, in those days on the mountain 
and on the plain, when thousands swarmed forth from 
city and village, and spreading themselves on the green 
grass were fed by his wonder-working bounty, and his yet 
more marvellous words ; those voyages on the little lake ; 
those mighty gatherings on Sabbath evenings, when the 
synagogue was out and the sun was going down, and they 
came flockmg, with mves and children, to the house 
where he was guest, and spread their sick and dying on 
the earth at his feet ; those evenings dming the liigh 
festivals, when, as we know, he did not tarry in the 
great city, but pm^sued his quiet path among oHves, 
across the ra^dne of Kedron, and up the ascent of 



192 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

Olivet, to Bethany, and probably to the house of Laza- 
rus ; those walks through the length and breadth of the 
land, in which, accompanied by eager groups, he dis- 
coursed of divine counsels and things of the kingdom. 
In .all these conjunctures we behold him the friend, in 
every lofty and every tender acceptation of that pregnant 
word. All who accepted him were his friends. He 
admitted them to the title ; he treated them as such. 
And now that, in his human nature, he is no more on 
earth, he just as really sustains the same relation to all 
who truly believe on him and partake of his Spirit. It 
is this sacred alliance which is brought prominently for- 
ward in these discom'ses of the first Communion season. 
The highest proof of friendship is, when friend, 
as in this case, dies for friend. We do not pause for 
proof of this proposition. Children understand it ; it 
sinks into the deep conviction of the heart. Death is 
so dread an evil, that all a man hath will he give for 
his life. A man will give many things for his friend, 
vast labours, vast possessions, yea, all things, before 
he will give his own life. Sometimes we find one will- 
ing to give the hazard, to run the chance, that is, to 
risk life for a friend ; but absolutely and without re- 
prieve to give the life, is a different matter. We do 
not think so meanly of sanctified hmnan nature as to 
disbelieve it possible. Scripture does not aUege that it 
never happened ; Christ does not allege it. We beheve 
there has been many a parent, who, on fit occasion, 
would die for a child, many a wife for a husband, nay, 



DYING FOR FRIENDS. ]_93 

many a loyal soldier for his prince. But what we affirm 
is, that when this occurs, it is the indubitable testimo- 
nial of the highest love. Other marks may deceive, 
but this is infallible. If a human friend had died for 
us, we should cherish his memory with a sentiment 
Httle short of idolatry ; for we cling with passion and 
reverence to one who has even jeoparded life for our 
sakes. This, then, is the acknowledged principle, on 
which the Lord Jesus founds that which he has to say 
respecting the love he bears to his disciples. It is a 
matter not for proof but meditation. 

The amazing truth which we have to contemplate 
is, that this conclusive proof of attachment Christ actu- 
ally gave. The church is founded on the fact, that 
Christ died for his friends ; he made them friends by 
dying for them ; for they were once foes. " Por when 
we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died 
for the ungodly. Por scarcely for a righteous man (or 
a man barely just and upright) will one die ; yet perad- 
venture for a good man (a man attaching himself to us 
by affectionate kindness) some would even dare to die ;" 
unusual as is the spectacle, a rare and singular instance 
might be found in the lapse of ages ; " but God com- 
mendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet 
sinners, Christ died for us ! " It is the great lesson of 
scripture and sacrament. Has it become a weariness 
to you ? Then your hearts have never been touched 
by renewing grace ; you have never sickened at the evil 
of sin, you have never rejoiced with the transport of 
13 



194 DYING FOR FRIENDS, 

faith. There is a power in genuine experience, which 
freshens the oldest doctrine to the heart of the behever, 
and makes him come back to these truths as to breasts 
of consolation, ever new with the sincere milk of the 
word. ~FoY which cause, the sacrament that sets it 
forth, so far from losing value and attraction by repeti- 
tion, is sweetest to the old disciple and the pilgrim near 
his journey's end. 

The death of the Lord Jesus Christ for his people 
is pronounced by divine authority to be the grand argu- 
ment of his love ; and they feel it to be so. Hence 
they love to celebrate it. He uttered these touching 
words to the w^ondering and sorrowing group, just be- 
fore the great event. His eyes saw what was hidden 
from them. He was already, in purpose and dedica- 
tion, a sacrifice. It was anticipated as a glory : " Father, 
the hour is come ; glorify thy Son ! " Already, as the 
Lamb of God, was he bound with cords and palpitating 
upon the altar ; already his soul was troubled, preparing 
for '' the strong crying and tears" of the awful night. 
He had a baptism to be baptized with, and was strait- 
ened till it should be accomplished. The cup which his 
Father was giving him was already in his hands. 
When he spoke of dying for his friends, he had a per- 
fect foresight of the scenes which were to mark the next 
few eventful hours. It was not the simple article of 
death, the bare separation of soul and body which he 
contemplated. He saw the mysterious shadow of 
Gethsemane, the agony and bloody sweat. He saw the 



DYING FOR FRIENDS. ]^95 

midnight assault, the arrest, the hurrying by torchlight 
from tribunal to tribunal, the cords, the scourging, the 
robes of scorn, the insults of the populace, the languor, 
the exposure, the ignominy, the blasphemy, the crown of 
thorns. He saw the accursed tree, the nails, the spear, 
the desertion, the blood and anguish, the complicated 
dying. He saw this to be a substitution, a suffering 
for others, for friends, for those who should forsake and 
deny him, for millions who were as yet his enemies. 
And seeing all this, he said, with an emphasis which 
we can nov\^ better understand, " Greater love hath 
no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his 
friends." 

Let our powers task themselves to devise a testimo- 
nial of love which shall be equivalent to this. Reason 
and imagination are at once baffled. And yet we do 
not begin to apprehend the magnitude of the Divine 
affection, until we take into view the nature of Him 
who evinces it. Man, simple man, might testify great 
love, and testify it by voluntary death, by death un- 
merited, by death surrounded with every aggravation 
of torment and shame, by death for the unworthy. 
This would be affecting and sublime, yet only finite and 
comprehensible. But, as we love to sing, and to sing 
without emendation : " God the mighty Maker dies, for 
man the creature's sin!" The person who sustains 
this suffering is a Divine Person. It is the infinite 
Jehovah descending to take the place of the rebel, and 
to subject himself to penal humiliation and agony. 



295 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

This is the great fact of Christianity, the capital 
demonstration of the Godhead. Here we behold more 
of the heart of God than in all his works and Word be- 
side. Into these things the angels desire to look ; and 
the cherubic emblems hover and stoop over the ark, 
bending to inspect the mystery of the law covered by 
the golden propitiatory and the mercy-seat sprinkled 
with divine blood. Por this there had been a prepara- 
tion in aU the foregoing economy of the Old Testament, 
from the sacrifice of Abel to the Passover they had just 
been celebrating. All altars and priesthood, all un- 
blemished victims and sprinkling of blood, every sin- 
offering, scape-goat, basin and hyssop-branch, whispered 
of the dying love that was to come. AU types and 
emblems foreshadowed this testimony of divine friend- 
ship. There has been a reverberation of holy echoes 
in the arches of all temples, betokening the descent of 
divine compassion. The fires of all combined sacrifices 
have been going up, to presignify the whole burnt-offer- 
ing of this great Day of Atonement, in which the sword 
of God is to awake against the man that is his fellow, 
and the perfect and final victim go up in the flame of 
unutterable and infinite consecration. Christ dying for 
the ungodly is the central radiant point, at once of di- 
vine dispensations, of the world's history, of gospel 
theology, and of sound experience. Who, by searching, 
can find it out ! Herein is love, not that we loved God, 
but that God loved us ! And it is all that we " may be 
able to comprehend with aU saints what is the breadth 



DYING FOR rRIEJn)S. I97 

and length, and depth and height, and to know the love 
of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that we may be 
filled with all the fulness of God." The demonstration 
is complete, but its measures are unfathomable. When 
we would know how much Christ loves his friends, 
our only reply is by looking to the Cross ; but we must 
look forever. Though we come again and again, with 
the concentrated powers of all human minds, we cannot 
reach the mystery, " the breadth, the length, the height.'' 
" Angels that hymn the Great I Am, fall down and vail 
before the Lamb." It is reserved for the heavenly 
state to launch out more fully mto the ocean of inqmry, 
and to survey the unattainable dimensions of such a 
friendship from God to man. 

The love of Christ in dying for sinners, is the 
ground of then- friendship towards him. "We love 
him because he first loved us." And this in two senses ; 
for first, if he had not loved us beforehand, there would 
be no grace dispensed to work these affections in om^ 
hearts; and secondly, it is the consideration of this 
sovereign and abounding love w^hich awakens these 
affections. We are fully aware that a different teach- 
ing, from a school of metaphysical theology now near 
extinction, has been heard in our chm^ches ; but among 
other blessed characteristics of the late Revival of Re- 
ligion, we note a return to the cathohc experience of all 
Christian ages, in regard to the power of God's love in 
Christ as recognized by the repentant sinner. " The 
love of Christ constraineth us." Here is the spring- 



298 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

head of all true religious feeling. Mistake on this point 
may be disastrous. General views of the divine char- 
acter and excellencies may produce awe, dread, adora- 
tion, and approval, but will never enkindle love. The 
fi'iends of Christ are made such by contemplating his 
love, and especially by acts of faith directed toward his 
Cross. that I knew how to treat this subject aright ! 
Perhaps it wiU be safest to turn aside from the beaten 
track of a merely doctrinal theology, and make an im- 
mediate appeal to the experience of the new creature. 

Take a view, then, first, of the soul unrenewed by 
grace. And let us not choose for one instance any ex- 
treme case of wickedness or unbelief, but one of those 
gospel hearers who fill our assembhes and are some- 
what instructed in the elements of religion. Let it 
even be one who is not totally indifferent to the things 
of another world. But he is, nevertheless, as yet un- 
reconciled. Often does he endeavour, in thought, to 
present to his view the sublime idea of the Great Su- 
preme. Yet, if he makes frank confession, the thought 
is not pleasing. He is overshadowed and weighed 
down by the conception of one so high, inflexible, and 
distant. The spirituality of God overwhelms him ; ho- 
Kness dazzles and humbles ; inexorable justice terrifies. 
The starthng truth perpetually reappears, that this pure 
and mighty Jehovah is his enemy. The distance seems 
a gulf which cannot be transcended. Efforts at obedi- 
ence and reform recoil in a sense of incapacity and 
guilt. There is no inward view of the way in which 



DYING FOR FRIENDS. igg 

God can be just, and yet justify tlie ungodly. These 
are among the most wretched moments of hfe. Often 
does he turn away from the subject because it increases 
pain, reveals sin, and awakens enmity. As often is he 
reluctantly drawn back by the unwelcome fascination 
of the awful verities. Thus it is with many during the 
tedious night of legal conviction. They seem to grow 
worse rather than better. They are under the Law, 
and the law worketh wrath. Condemnation increases ; 
for, *'by the Law is the knowledge of sin." It is far 
more distressing than the former state of carelessness ; 
into which, indeed, the sinner vainly and madiy tries to 
returij. No ray of benign compassion breaks through 
the cloud of justice which envelopes the throne of the 
Infinite Majesty. No tender melting views of sin dis- 
solve the heart, which seems harder than before, and 
sullen in its u.nloving discontent. No approaches to 
God as a Pather sweeten the acts of a constrained de- 
votion. 

But after a while a signal change is experienced. 
This same soul, disheartened at the sight of its own 
turpitude and illdesert, and appalled by the view of 
divine perfections, is led by grace to contemplate a new 
object, and to turn its regards to the person and work 
of the Lord Jesus Christ. The sinner forgets himself 
for a little, while he gazes on this unparalleled exhibition 
of divine love. He beholds God descending in human 
nature, to become the sacrifice and the priest. He 
sees the immaculate Redeemer dying on the cross for 



200 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

the sin of man. He recognizes an atonement and 
satisfaction to justice, sufficient to obliterate the guilt 
of all mankind. He opens his heart to the Priend of 
sinners. He perceives that the whole work of redemp- 
tion is out of himself, and independent not only of his 
obedience but of all his feelings and exercises ; and that 
the salvation thus complete is offered and made over to 
sinners and to him, just as he is, without any prelimi- 
nary qualification. Now, for the first time, he is struck 
with the sovereignty of uncaused love. It is nothing 
in him, or his state of mind, but all in this act and 
demonstration of heavenly friendship. He owns with 
wonder the freeness of the salvation. He can no longer 
deny that it is for him, now, this moment, on his acqui- 
escence and acceptance. The chief of sinners may 
come. God loves the chief of sinners ; the proof is in 
the Cross ; the proffer is in the Gospel ; his bonds are 
loosed ; his self-righteousness is left behind ; and be- 
fore he is aware his sinking soul is lifted in the arms of 
the Son of God, and his tears are wiped away by the 
pierced hands. Now, now, he exclaims, I perceive the 
truth which I have heard and repeated a thousand 
times. God is love ! and love to me ! God forbid 
that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus 
Christ ! He is a believer, and while he beheves he 
loves. He sees the things that are freely given him of 
God. He understands what is meant by salvation 
without money and without price. God is no longer a 
taskmaster and a judge, but a merciful and reconciled 



DYING FOR FRIENDS. £01 

Fatlier, through Christ Jesus. He is astonished to ob- 
serve, that all along, during his whole protracted strug- 
gle, this infinite love has been equally free and equally 
offered ; that God was willing, but he was unT^dlling ; 
and he adores the grace which waited for his delay. 
Unutterable is his grateful attachment to Jesus his 
Saviour, who is now the chiefest among ten thousands. 
He is the friend of Christ ; no longer a servant but a 
son ; and from this moment onward he lives a new Hfe, 
by faith in the Son of God, who loved him and gave 
himself for him. Thus the love of Christ, as dying for 
sinners, is the ground of their friendship toward the 
Redeemer. 

There remains an important truth to be considered : 
the true and certain test of being the friends of Christ, 
is obedience to his precepts. " Ye are my friends, if ye 
do whatsoever I command you." It is not profession, 
my brethren, which makes the Christian. When Nao- 
mi had her affecting interview with her two daughters, 
" Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto 
her." On this very paschal evening Simon Peter was 
louder in profession than John ; and if Peter's character 
had been always no other than during the denial, he 
would have been only a hypocrite. You cannot quarrel 
with this test. It is reasonable, it is incontestible. 
The proof of Love afforded by obedience is triumphant. 
Good works are not our passport to heaven in the way 
of merit, but they are the infalhble fruits of faith, and 
so the best criterion of attachment to the Lord. 



202 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

The operation of this principle is not abstruse or 
recondite. We recognize its influence in the Httle child 
who does what is bidden out of love to the parent ; in 
every act of compliance or service that proceeds from 
common friendship. But it rises to its highest achieve- 
ments in the grateful affection of the believer to the 
crucified Redeemer. That dying love works wonders 
and constrains obedience. Recur to the tender in- 
stance, when John and Mary stood at the foot of the 
accursed tree, gazing intently on the Son of God in Ins 
last pangs. " When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother, 
and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith 
unto his mother. Woman, behold thy Son ! Then saith 
he to the disciple. Behold thy mother ! " Can we 
doubt the result ? Love wrought obedience. " Erom 
that horn'," that hour of love and death, *' that disciple 
took her unto his own home." And when the sacred 
body, devoid of life, was lifted from the cross and made 
ready for burial, and when the holy women and such 
friends as had not fled looked on the heavenly counte- 
nance of One who had loved them unto the end, charg- 
ing upon their own sms the awful event and expiation, 
do you need argument to convince you that they felt 
bound forever to obey his highest wish ? All the way 
down through the ages of faith, this love has acted itself 
out in obedience. Every believer owns in his inmost 
heart, that he lies under an obligation to surrender all 
to Him who died for him ; as one redeemed not with 
corruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with the 



DYING FOR FRIENDS. £03 

blood of Chiist as of a lamb without spot or blemish. 
Ye are not your own ; ye are bought with a price. 
" Henceforth/' says Paul, " let no man trouble me, for 
I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." 

More need not be said as to the certain efficacy of 
the principle ; but a word is necessary as to the extent 
of the obedience. It is universal. "Whatsoever I 
command you ; " that is, all my commands. In this 
life, the obedience, indeed, is never perfect as to its acts 
and the details of duty, " for in many things we offend 
all." Yet it is universal in its purpose or intention. 
True love, taking its origin from the Cross, does not 
discriminate and select, does not prepare for some du- 
ties and refuse others, but girds itself for all. And this 
tendency of the will is a better evidence of grace than 
any or all particularities of performance, friendship 
to Christ perpetually utters this language : I wiU hear 
what God the Lord will speak. Lord, what wilt thou 
have me to do ? I will perform whatsoever my dying 
Saviour has commanded. I have sworn and I will 
perform it,, that I will keep aU thy commandments. 
He therefore who speaks thus, I ^vill obey up to a cer- 
tain point and there I will stop short, is not the friend 
of Christ. He who says, I wiU keep the command- 
ments at large, but this or that commandment I TviU 
not keep, is not the friend of Christ. He who whispers 
to himself, I will be pure in all things else, but this one 
secret, cherished, easily -besetting, darhng sin, I '^^dU not 
relinquish, is not the friend of Christ. The true dis- 



204 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 

ciple abandons in purpose and endeavour all known 
transgression.- And if we turn our thoughts inward to 
find one particular exercise in which more of true re- 
ligion is concentrated than in all others, we shall dis- 
cover none more certain than this, the absolute unselfish 
oblation of the whole man — mind, heart, and will — as a 
sacrifice to Christ, out of thankful regard to his dying 
love. And when, as is sometimes our privilege, we 
stretch forth our hands to the bread and the wine at 
the Lord's Table, and rely on that broken body and shed 
blood for our justification, the faith thus exercised is 
inseparably connected with a solemn act of self-renoim- 
cing and unreserved dedication to the holy will of our 
redeeming God. This is the living sacrifice, the reason- 
able service, with which God is well pleased. To keep 
back any thing is to deny our Lord. He asks only the 
heart ; but he asks it all. And in gracious souls he has 
it. It is his. He has bought it with his Cross and 
Passion, and carries it away in triumph ; embracing in 
almighty arms the ransomed one, who desires no other 
Master, and is happy to be borne away captive by Him, 
whose commandments are not grievous, whose yoke is 
light, and whose service is freedom. 



IX. 



THE BLOOD OP SPKINKLINa. 



THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING * 



Hebeews xii. 24. 



" The blood of sprinMing, that speaketh better things than that 

of Abel." 

The Old Testament is to some Christians almost a 
sealed book, especially in those parts wMcli treat of the 
rites and ordinances pertaining to the tabernacle and 
temple. But this is an inferior stage in religious 
knowledge and experience, and should not be willingly 
rested in. After having obtained a just view of Christ 
as Mediator, from the clear representations of the New 
Testament, we go back to the system of Levitical 
types, and find it all there. It would be but an imper- 
fect, undeveloped scheme of salvation, which should be 
derived from the New Testament without the Old. In- 
deed, the New constantly assumes and paraphrases the 

* New York, January 15, 1857. 



208 THE BLOOD OF SPRmKLING. 

Old; and many of the most precious Gospel declara- 
tions of Christ and the Apostles would be unintelligible 
hieroglyphics, without the key of Moses. It is the 
manner of these great teachers to express spiritual, 
gracious and eternal things in terms of the temple and 
the altar ; and this m conformity with a system, planned 
from the beginning, in which all the type and symbol, 
of the Mosaic economy is a preparation for the clear 
light of the latter day. Those, therefore, are the most 
deeply taught and richly experienced believers, who, 
after having learnt the simple principles of evangelical 
truth in the New Testament, go back Avith them to the 
Old Testament, and behold a hundredfold more beauty 
and majesty in the same truths as arrayed in the forms 
and laws of the Jewish service. In our endeavour, then, 
to find the Cross in the Holy of Holies, and the Gospel 
in those smoking altars, we have oiu best aid in the Epis- 
tle to the Hebrews, which might be named a Key to 
the Tabernacle, or the Old Testament explained by the 
New. The theology which results from such studies is 
diametrically opposed to that of the metaphysical and 
sentimental school, who cite little scripture, and almost 
ignore the gorgeous pageantry of the old priestly service. 
Though a distempered fancy may here, as elsewhere, 
work mischief, these rites, which fill so much space in 
the Pentateuch, admit of an application much more 
detailed than is commonly enjoyed ; and under Apostolic 
guidance we shall do well to make ourselves largely ac- 
quainted with this neglected mine of truth. 



THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 209 

Even cursory readers perceive the striking parallel 
between the bloody offerings of tlie temple and the 
oblation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; but 
few have taken pains to trace out the analogies, latent 
in the particular parts of sacrificial work, every one of 
wliich casts light upon the doctrine of redemption. At 
such a season as this, when every eye ought to be bent 
towards the atoning Lamb, we shall do well to enter 
somewhat into the more concealed significancy of this 
ceremonial, for the wine of sacred truth does not yield 
itself without pressure, and the honeycomb of grace 
requires its laden ceUs to be broken. 

Consider with me, for a very few moments, the 
several steps which belonged to a regular and complete 
sacrifice, under the Aaronic Uturgy.* Pirst, there was 
the selection of a suitable, unblemished animal, as the 
victim ; let us say a lamb from the flock. This reminds 
us at once of the Divine election of the Only-Begotten 
Son, as the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of 
the world. Secondly, the innocent creature was sol- 
emnly presented, for this peculiar purpose, near the 
door of the tabernacle. Answerable to this is the 
actual appearance of the Incarnate Son, in human na- 
ture, and especially his solemn separation and oblation 
of himself, the priest and victim being in this case one 
and the same. Thirdly, we behold a most imposing 
ceremony : the sinner who offers sacrifice lays his hands 

* AciTovpyia. Heb. ix. 21 et al. locis. 
14 



210 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 

upon the head of the animal, confessing liis sins. In 
the parallel instance of the scapegoat, the high priest is 
said to " put the sins of the congregation on the head 
of the goat." Jemsh writers record the words with 
which this imposition of hands was sometimes accom- 
panied : " I beseech thee, O Lord, I have sinned, I 
have done perv^ersely, I have rebelled, I have done so 
and so (mentioning the transgression) ; but now I re- 
pent, and let this victim be my expiation ! " Who does 
not recognize in this the sinner under the Gospel, who, 
with clearer views, comes not to the visible but the 
invisible altar ; not to the son of Aaron, but the son of 
David and Son of God ; laying his hands not on the 
lamb of the perishable flock, but on the head of the 
divine sacrifice, and saying, " I have sinned, I have done 
perversely, I have rebelled ; let this victim be my expia- 
tion ! " So closely did the liebrew connect this cere- 
mony with the acknowledgment of guilt, that it grew 
into a maxim, " Where there is no imposition of hands, 
there is no confession." They were equally accustomed 
to regard this laying on of hands as symbolically re- 
moving the guilt of sins from the sinner to the sacrifice. 
That which the Israelitish worshipper did, long before 
the Great Sacrifice on Calvary, and even before the 
slaying of his own typical offering, the Christian peni- 
tent now does by an act of faith, looking back to the ob- 
lation made once for aU by the Lord Jesus. And every 
time he casts the eye of believing towards his hum- 
bled, scourged, buffeted, bleeding, crucified Saviour, he 



THE BLOOD OF SPRIXKLIXG. 211 

lays his hands anew upon the sacred Lamb, sayhig, 
Let this victim be my expiation ! Eouiithly, the sac- 
rifice was slain, and consumed (sometimes wholly), 
upon the altar. This was the great atoning act. 
Here is blood for blood, and life for Hfe. The basis of 
aU its significancy is laid down, Lev. xvii. 11 : " Por the 
life of the flesh is in the blood ; and I have given it to 
you upon the altar, to make an atonement for your 
souls : for it is the blood that maketh an atonement 
for the soul; "or as some render it, "for the blood 
atoned through the soul." It is not the matter of the 
blood which atones, but the soul or life which resides in 
it ; so that the soul of the ofiered victim atones for the 
soul of the offering penitent. In the imperfect but 
most speaking representation of type, the sacrifice of 
the innocent symboHc substitute goes up to God in the 
smoke of the bmiit-offering, a sweet-smelling savour — 
if we may borrow another phrase from the vocabulary 
of Moses — a token and a pledge that the satisfaction is 
not only offered but accepted. It is by that which is 
here represented, to wit, by the self-oblation of the 
Lord Jesus Christ, that the breach between heaven and 
earth is made up ; and so far as the efficacy of the 
atonement is concerned, the work is complete and can 
never be repeated. All other pretended sacrifices, 
bloody or unbloody, are profane mockeries and insult- 
ing disparagements of that sacrifice of Himself, " once 
for all," which terminated when Jesus cried, "It is 
finished ! " Pifthly, and last in the order of sacrificial 



212 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 

action, was tlie sprinkling op blood, to which your 
attention is more particularly called, as involved in the 
text, and as full of meaning appropriate to tliis ordi- 
nance. Aspersion or sprinkling is a symbolical act 
employed with both water and blood. The sprinkling 
of water is a token of symbolical cleansing, and is just 
as valid for this purpose, as if the whole body were 
washed by plentiful affusion or immersion, otherwise it 
would not have been so largely employed in the ritual 
language of the Old Testament. To sprinkle is to 
cleanse. Mark, therefore. Lev. xiv. 1, when a leper 
was to be purified : " And lie shall sprinkle upon him 
that is to be cleansed from the leprosy seven times, and 
shall p'onounce him clean.'' As soon as he was thus 
bedewed, his consciousness responded, "Now I am 
ceremonially clean." It was to carry home this con- 
sciousness that the act was ordained. Among the 
" divers washings," (baptisms,*) we may confidently 
enumerate what took place in the consecration of the 
Levites, Numb. viii. Observe how they were cleansed : 
" Take the Ijevites from among the children of Israel, 
and cleanse them. And thus shalt thou do unto them 
to cleanse them. Sprinkle water of purifying upon 
them," etc. In another instance, where ceremonial de- 
filement was contracted, a clean person was to take 
hyssop and dip it in water, and sprinkle it upon the 
tent and inmates ; aU which prepared the Hebrew 

* Aia(f)6pois jSaTTTttr/iioTs. Heb. ix. 10. 



THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 213 

people for compreliending such language as that of God 
by the prophet: "Then mil I sprinkle clean water 
upon you and ye shall be clean ; from all your filthi- 
ness and from all your idols mil I cleanse you/' Ezek. 
xxxvi. 25. In all these cases, whether in symbol or 
reality, there was conveyed to the soul a divine purifica- 
tion and a sense of it. 

Now, if we tm-n from the application of baptismal 
water to the application of sacrificial blood, we shall ob- 
serve the analogy hold good, and shall see the rite con- 
veying to the sinner a consciousness of acceptance with 
God. In regard to God, the slaying and oblation was 
enough : in regard to man, the blood must be sprin- 
kled. God might be appeased, and yet the sinner might 
be destitute of any pledge that it was so. Hence the 
importance of the seal ; just as in our day the impor- 
tance of sacramental sealings, in regard to acts long 
smce consummated. " This sprinlding of blood was by 
much the most sacred part of the entire service, since 
it was that by which the hfe and soul of the victim 
were considered to be given to God as supreme Lord 
of hfe and death; for what was placed upon the 
altar of God was supposed, according to the religion of 
the Jews, to be rendered to him." ^ But the same 
typical sprinkhng reaches the offerer and sometimes 
the whole congregation, in token of their participation 
in the finished work. Those who honour God's Old 

* Ontram on Sacrifice. 



214 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 

Testament lessons will not turn away from a short ex- 
amination of several cases as prescribed in the Law. 

In the cleansing of one who had been afflicted with 
leprosy, after the slaying of one of the two sacrificial 
birds, the priest was to dip hyssop (among other things) 
in the blood, and sprinkle upon the leper seven times. 
Lev. xiv. This is a very simple and very striking ser- 
vice, in which the sprinlding of blood is used for puri- 
fication. 

But greatly more solemn is the next case, Lev. xvi., 
in which the method is detailed in which the high 
priest, once in the year, on the great day of Atonement, 
shall enter into the Holy of holies. A bullock, as one 
of the nobler animals, is slain and laid on the altar. 
Then, verse 14, " he shall take of the blood of the bul- 
lock and sprinkle it with his finger upon the mercy-seat 
eastward, and before the mercy-seat shall he sprinkle of 
the blood with his finger seven times." The mercy- 
seat, or, far more properly, the propitiatory, was the 
awful centre of the shrine, displaying its golden efful- 
gence above the ark of the covenant, and just beneath 
the covering mngs of the overshadowing cherubim. 
To sprinkle the blood here, was to bring it to the throne 
of Jehovah, amidst the blaze of the Shekinah, unap- 
proachable save by the typical Mediator. It was to 
declare before Infinite Justice, that the satisfaction was 
complete, by venturing even there with that which was 
the life and soul of the sacrifice. This is blood which 
'* speaks." The apostle Paul refers to this, Heb. ix. 18, 



THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 215 

"For when Moses Imd spoken every precept to the 
people according to the law, he took the blood of calves 
and of goats, with water and scarlet wool, and hyssop, 
and sprinkled both the book and all the people, say- 
ing, This is the blood of the testament which God hath 
enjoined mito you : * moreover, he sprinkled with 
blood both the tabernacle and all the vessels of the 
ministry. And almost all things are by the law purged 
with blood, and v^thout shedding of blood is no remis- 
sion." And after these striking words, the apostle goes 
on to show, that all this was done in antitype and real- 
ity, when om^ glorious High Priest entered into the 
heavenly places, to present the merit of his own most 
precious blood-shedding. As the whole virtue of the 
sacrifice resided in the life, which, as we have above 
cited, was in the blood, the solemn presentation of the 
blood was a sign that the oblation was complete ; and 
the sprinkling of it on sinners Avas a token to them that 
the guilt of their sins was remitted. We have dwelt 
thus long upon an external rite, which many pass over 
as insignificant, because this is God's own method of 
conveying to us, in the most lively and impressive man- 
ner, the cardinal truth of propitiation and pardon. 
This, then, is that " blood of sprinkling," spoken of in 
the text. 

The way is now open to us to inquire. How the 
BLOOD OF Christ, the great antitype, " speaketh 

* Compare Luke xii. 20. 



216 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 

BETTER THINGS THAN THAT OP AbEL." Words need 

not be multiplied in exposition of the clause. The 
blood of Abel spake dreadful things, when God said to 
Cain, " The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me 
from the ground." It was vocal with wrath. It ut- 
tered the echo of God's vindicatory indignation against 
fratricide. It was the first human bloodshed, and an 
event fitted to strike by comparison and contrast. 
Now, in this view, 1 . The blood of Jesus speaks atone- 
ment, satisfaction, and access to God's favour. And 
this it specially does as sprinkled or exhibited in the 
sight of the Supreme Majesty. It must have been an 
hour of breathless interest and expectation, when the 
hundreds of thousands of Israel, gathered on that high 
day in the tabernacle comi, followed with their eyes 
the high priest in his pontifical array, with the graven 
jewels and names on his breast, as with stately mien 
and profound awe he passed towards the sacred tent, 
bearing in his hands the blood of the altar, and then, 
lost within the curtains, advanced to the invisible recess 
of hidden glory. But the gospel shows us something 
more august than this shadow. " For Christ is not en- 
tered into the holy places made with hands, which are 
the figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to 
appear in the presence of God for us. Nor yet that he 
should offer himself often, as the high priest entereth 
into the holy place every year with blood of others ; but 
now once in the end of the world hath he appeared, to 
put away sin, by the sacrifice of himself." The sprin- 



THE BLOOD OF SPEINKLING. 217 

klhig of typical blood, in regard to God, declared tliat 
sin was atoned for, and that a way was opened for sin- 
ners into the Holiest of all. This sprinkling was ac- 
comphshed when the Lord Jesus, by the blood of the 
everlasting covenant, made solemn entrance into heaven, 
in the name of his people, and when — ^if I may use Le- 
vitical expressions, familiar to the Gospel, and provided 
for this very end — he drew near to the primeval and 
real mercy-seat in heaven, and there left traces of his 
own divine blood, as though he said, " I have finished 
the work which thou gavest me to do ; here am I, and 
the children whom thou hast given me. Spare them, 
for I have borne their sins in my own body on the tree ■, 
of which the pledge and testimonial is this blood, ex- 
pressed from my human veins in Gethsemane, at the 
place of scourging, and on the Cross." And so everlast- 
ing is the remembrance of this in heaven, that John the 
Apostle says, in his Apocalypse, " And I beheld, and 
lo, in the midst of the throne and of the fom^ beasts, 
and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb, as it had 
been slain." Still does the blood of Christ speak better 
things than that of Abel, by causing the merit of the 
Atonement to resound in heaven. 

2. The blood of Jesus speaks peace to the believing 
sinner's conscience. One may be interested in the 
great salvation, and yet be destitute of certainty. We 
are constrained to judge thus concerning some of the 
best of God's people, in their moments of darkness and 
depression. The same blood which removes guilt by 



218 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 

being slied at the altar, removes fear by being sprin- 
kled on tlie believing offerer. This is the great mean- 
ing of the sealing type. It was so apphed to the people 
with some profusion, for the blood being put into ba- 
sins, and having Avater mingled to keep it fluid, was 
conveyed on a bunch or bundle of hyssop bound up 
with scarlet wool, till it was all spent in the service. 
This rite of sprinkling was chosen of God as an expres- 
sive sign of the effectual communication of the benefits 
of the covenant to the persons so bedewed. The blood 
of Cln*ist was not divided, as was that of the Levitical 
sacrifice, part being sprinkled on the altar and part on 
the sinner ; but the efiicacy of his one oblation pro- 
duced both consequences. Yet we need both. Even 
though offered to God, it must be apphed to us. The 
High Priest sprinkles our heart and conscience, as with 
the hyssop-branch ; which explains the lamenting prayer 
of David, " Purge me ^^ith hyssop and I shall be clean." 
This application is wrought by the Holy Spirit; and 
how gracious is this effusion ! We stand at a great 
distance, unable to serve God A^dth any liberty, till he 
thus speaks peace to our troubled souls. This filial 
seiTuig of the living God is expressly noted as the end 
for which the application is made, Heb. ix. 13; and let 
us here learn to rise from the type to the antitype : " Por 
if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of an 
heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying 
of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, 
who through the Eternal Spirit offered hunseff without 



THE BLOOD OF SPRIXKLIXG. 219 

spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works, 
to serve the Ihdng God." Then we can serve with 
well-grounded cheerfulness, when the warm effusion of 
Christ's blood is felt upon our hearts, which so lately 
were sinking with dread. 

Let us go back to the Law, which is our school- 
master to bring us to Christ. Here is an offender, 
standing pensive and awe-struck before the altar of 
burnt-offering. He has presented his victim ; he has 
laid on it the hand of confession and imputation ; he 
has seen it deprived of hfe and laid upon the blazing 
altar ; he has gazed upon the series of symbolical actions 
expressive of the atoning work and satisfaction to God. 
But one thing is yet wanting, to assure him of his in- 
dividual participation in this justifying righteousness ; 
he receives from the hyssop-branch the sacred drops 
upon his vestment and his person. His pardon is 
sealed. He says, with a new consciousness, "I am 
free ! This oblation avails for me ! God remits my 
guilt for the sake of sacrifice ! " Now all this takes 
place in a New Testament sense. The convinced sinner 
has a clear view of the plan of remedy provided in the 
Gospel, and of Jesus Christ as the one atoning sacrifice. 
At the feet of this Cross he confesses his sins. He be- 
holds there a propitiation amply adequate for the pardon 
of a world. He approves the method, and honom's its 
wisdom and love. He perceives the law exalted and 
God's anger turned away. This, so far as it goes, is 
faith; but peace is in abeyance. He knows Christ 



220 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 

to be a Saviour, but he falters in claiming Christ a 
Saviour for him, until, O blessed moment ! the veil is 
rent, the priest returns from the most holy place, and 
sprinkles him with the peace-speaking blood. Now he 
can cry, " I know whom I have believed ; '' " Christ Je- 
sus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am 
chief; " " My beloved is mine, and I am his ; " " My 
Lord and my God ! " Thus the blood of the covenant 
speaketh to the conscience better things than that of 
Abel. 

3. As a case under the preceding, the blood of 
sprinkhng speaks peace to the soul in regard to daily 
sins. Oh, shameful, dreadful word ! Yet none more 
true. No dream is more directly opposed to the Scrip- 
tures than the pretence to sinless perfection. " If we 
say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the 
truth is not in us." Every instructed Christian knows 
that he sins, by commission or by omission, every hour ; 
and that he requires not only a primary reconciliation 
to God, on the ground of Christ's one sacrifice, but a 
constant renewal of the same grace, to keep him in 
favom-, and particularly to persuade him of his accept- 
ance, which is not always easy, in the face of those cor- 
ruptions which break out even into act. A fair and 
most important distinction must be taken between 
Justification, which is a single act, accomphshed in- 
stantaneously, once for all, at the sinner's first behev- 
ing, and Pardon, which must be renewed day by day, 
though its efficacy depends upon the one original sacri- 



THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 221 

fice. Such was tlie glory of that oblation, that it 
needed not to be repeated, in this differing from the 
typical sacrifices, which were reiterated as fresh sins 
arose. Heb. x. 1. *Tor the law having a shadow of 
good things to come, and not the very image of the 
things, can never with those sacrifices which they 
offered year by year continually, make the comers 
thereunto perfect. Tor then would they not have 
ceased to be offered? because that the worshippers, 
once pm-ged, should have had no more conscience of 
sinsr But when Messiah comes, v. 10, we are saved 
" by the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for 
all." Nevertheless, that which is ever-enduring in its 
value and prevalency needs to be applied to us fre- 
quently, to take away " conscience of sins ; " that is, 
while there is but one Sacrifice, there are many 
Sprinklings. As long as we live, and every day that 
we live, om^ rising evils of heart and life are such as 
would destroy all peace, if it were not for the hyssop- 
branch in the hand of the Spirit. There is a two-fold 
apphcation to the soul of Christ's atoning righteous- 
ness by the Holy Spirit ; one, which is single, and 
never repeated, the effect of which is to interest such 
soul in the redemjptive acts; the other, which is perpet- 
ually renewed, the effect of which is to give jpeace to 
the soul under a sense of pardon. That experience 
may justly be distrusted in which there is no going 
again and again to the blood of Jesus for new applica- 
tions. Thousands have used the words of the great 



222 THE BLOOD OF SPRmKLING. 

penitential Psalm, with a feeling of their necessity. 
The royal sinner knew that he had received the Holy 
Spirit, for he prays that he may not lose the gift. He 
knew that he had possessed the joy of God's salva- 
tion, for he implores that it may be restored. But 
at the same time he sues for fresh pardons : " Blot 
out my transgressions ; " " Pm'ge me with hyssop ; " 
and for new peace of conscience, " Make me to hear joy 
and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken 
may rejoice." The divine affusion of the sacred blood 
upon the heart and conscience, tends, as the Christian 
hfe goes on, to make the subject a more obedient and 
a happier Christian ; which seems to be contemplated 
by the Apostle Peter, when he designates believers as 
"elect according to the foreknowledge of God the 
Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedi- 
ence, and sprinkhng of the blood of Jesus Christ." 
The same ideas of obedience and renewed pardon are 
presented in connexion by the Apostle John : " My 
little children, these things write I unto you, that ye 
sm not. And if any man sin, we have an Advocate 
with the Father, Jesus Christ, [who never sinned,] and 
he is the propitiation for our sins." The true oblation 
reaches that which Aaronic oblations could not reach, 
namely, the conscience ; for Paul says, that those were 
gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did 
the service perfect as pertaining to the conscience^ 
Grace and mercy result in peace, named in its higher 
measures the " peace of God which passeth all under- 



THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 223 

standing." Love liatli for its nature to make itself 
known and to have itself believed. The infinite love 
of God to the soul is not satisfied until it pours itself 
into the consciousness, saying, " I have loved thee with 
an everlasting love, therefore mth loving kindness have 
I drawn thee." God might have postponed the disclo- 
sure of the soul's safety until the day of judgment ; the 
blood might have been carried within the veil of the 
visible heavens, and offered at the cherubic throne, 
without ever being applied to our souls in this earthly 
state. But far different has been the gracious purpose 
of our High Priest, who condescends to assure us of 
our redemption, and to sprinkle us with his blood. The 
word of the Gospel, in the written revelation, precious 
as it is, and fundamental as it is to all edification within, 
utters assurances only of general favom\ There must 
be a distinct act of the Spirit to carry this home to the 
individual consciousness. And so many are the doubts 
and misgivings, engendered by indwelling sin, that we 
need our beloved Saviour to tell us again and again 
that he is at peace with us and loves us still. The 
words which he employs for this purpose are the veiy 
words which stand recorded in his written testament ; 
but they are uttered with a new tone of personal love 
and a voice trembling with individual compassion. And 
sometimes he vouchsafes to employ the idiom of signs 
and pledges, more penetrating than that of speech, and 
to address us thus : " Take, eat, this is my body : This 
cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for many, 



224 * THE BLOOD OF SPKINKLING. 

for the remission of sins." But the retrospective sacra- 
ment would be as inoperative as the prospective sacri- 
fice, unless there v^^ere superadded the gracious work of 
the Spirit within, appljdng the blood of Jesus Christ to 
the heart, and ^vitnessing with om^ spuits that we are 
the children of God. More simply, the Divine influence 
increases faith, renders its object more clear, precise, 
complete and free from error, and makes its acting more 
constant and intense. In this the Word is greatly 
aided by the sign and seal. And when the word of 
promise, set forth in this two-fold way, is made good 
to the soul at the communion, the effect is the same as 
if the bridegroom's own lips audibly should say to the 
particular participants : " I am come into my garden, 
my sister, my spouse ; I have gathered my myrrh 
with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with 
my honey ; I have drunk my wine with my milk ; 
eat, friends ; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O be- 
loved ! " Such invitations will be peculiarly welcome 
to those who halt with the wounds of recent sins, and 
who seem to hear the challenge, " Simon, son of Jonas, 
lovest thou me ? " But as surely as the bread and the 
wine shall presently be offered to your taste, so surely 
Christ offers to you, smful though you be, all the ad- 
vantages of the blood of sprinkling. 



X, 



THE THIRSTY INVITED 



15 



THE THIRSTY INVITED * 



Isaiah Iv. 1. 
"Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." 

Who is tliere among us, that remembers near the 
home of his infancy or the play-ground of his youth, 
some cool and crystal spring, that bm-st forth from its 
covert of rock, or its margin of grass, and freshened all 
the scene around ? Such an object of natural scenery 
lives long in the memory. To such a source of innocent 
delight we resort again and again, without weariness 
and without satiety. That which attracted us first, 
charms us still, and the reason is, that it is living, pe- 
rennial and inexhaustible, yielding supplies to wants 
which are perpetually returning. As long as men 
thirst, they will value the clear cold fountain. But if, 

* New York, July 9, ia54. 



228 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 

even in this temperate clime, we are often made to 
compreliend the invaluable excellency of this great and 
lavish gift to our craving humanity, how much livelier 
must be the feehng, in those torrid regions, where 
most of the scriptural scenes are laid ! A spring of 
water is always a desirable object ; but how surpassing 
its fascination amidst tropical heats, or in the scorching 
wastes of the desert, where the panting caravan looks 
out for hours to catch the first signs of verdure ! Con- 
sider this, and you will no longer marvel at the large 
place which is occupied by wells and fountains, in the 
beautiful pastoral and nomadic pictures of the Old 
Testament. The literature of the patriarchs is emi- 
nently an out-door and a summer literature, which we 
best understand when we leave the luxuries and con- 
straint of cities, and dwell abroad, under the fair 
heavens, and amidst the bright and picturesque sur- 
roundings of an oriental life. The imagination and 
memory of the Bible-reader are familiar with such ob- 
jects in the ancient landscape ; the wells of Abram, 
Isaac and Jacob ; the fountain opened to despairing 
Hagar ; the well of Rebekah, and the not less lovely 
well of Rachel ; the well of Jethro and Moses ; the 
palm-tree wells of Elam ; and that fount of which thirsting 
David cried, " O that one would give me drink of the water 
of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate ! " Bearing 
these associations in our minds, we can the better catch 
the meaning of promises which declare that the thirsty 
land shall become springs of water, and that God will 



THE THIRSTY INVITED. £29 

lead his people to fountains of living water. But why 
seek remote illustrations of that which finds its prompt 
response in the bosom of all who ever were athirst ? 
It is to such, in a spiritual sense, that the invitation of 
the text is addressed, " Ho, every one that thh^steth, 
come ye to the waters ! " And we may, without la- 
boured investigation, consider it as offering the benefits 
of the gospel to those who are perishing. I ask you on 
this holy day, to examine with me the fulness, the free- 
ness, and the universality of the offered gift. 

I. The fulness of the offered gift. It is water ; it 
is abundance of water. There must be something in 
tliis natural object, which is suited to symbolize the 
provision made in the gospel for the salvation of man- 
kind. Man is so constituted that he must have water, 
or perish. Give him all things else, but deny him 
every liquid refreshment, and you destroy his life. 
Nothing more forcibly shoAvs this, than the familiar 
fact, that even on the vast ocean, the mariner, surrounded 
by a world of waters, must nevertheless carry with him 
the fresh products of the Hving fountain. The appetite 
for this supply is so strong, that when long ungratified, 
it becomes a frenzy. And hoAV bountiful is the supply ! 
In hill and valley the springs of water bubble up, with 
a sweet caprice and dehghtful irregularity, or the hand 
of labour penetrates deeply to the coohng vein, in both 
cases with a liberality hke that which pom-s a vital at- 
mosphere around our planet. The evaporation from 
earth and ocean, and the descent of copious showers 



230 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 

maintain in plenitude this great reservoir for the 
cleansing and cheering of mankind. It is indispensa- 
ble to the natural life of the race. And so is the gospel 
to the spiritual life. Men must partake of it, or perish. 
When duly enlightened, they feel this to be their con- 
dition, and thirst for righteousness. Such an invitation 
as that of the text implies that the supply is large ; or 
it could not suffice for all. The provision of grace 
leaves nothing wanting, for the worst conceivable indi- 
vidual case, or for the utmost number of persons to be 
saved. We must be careful not to undervalue the re- 
medial methods and so to limit the Holy One of Israel. 
In this case God has acted like himself, with a large 
and sublime munificence ; more striking even than in 
the wonderful arrangements of original creation and 
providence, because these do not contemplate a crea- 
ture mahgnant and self-destroyed. If any one thing, 
even the slightest, had been left undone, which was nec- 
essary to the salvation of the sinner, the work would 
not have had this completeness. But all is furnished. 
It need not be here made an affair of argument, that 
the great demand is for a righteousness for those who 
who have none ; that mysterious and potent something, 
which shall heal the difference between heaven and earth, 
answer the claim of law, turn away the vn:ath of Jehovah, 
cleanse the guilt of sin, give a title to life, and afford a 
pledge of continuance in a holy state and of everlasting 
blessedness and perfection beyond the grave. The all- 
comprehending gift is the gift of God's own Son. " God 



THE THIRSTY INVITED. 231 

hath given unto us eternal hfe, and this life is in his 
Son." The Incarnation, the obedience and the vicarious 
suffering of the Lord Jesus Christ, are the source of 
all the streams which here issue in such fulness. But 
the point where abo^'e all others the waters gush forth 
fi'om the smitten rock is the Cross of our Redeemer. 
There, when his last cry of pain is over, and out of his 
side issue water and blood, we have the consummation 
of a gift to man, which is full beyond expression. Sin- 
ners by myriads may come in, and yet there is room. 
The invitation may be large, for the provision is vast. 
Not only is the springhead of these mercies great, but 
it cannot be greater. The consideration of this is very 
necessary for the steady confidence of our faith ; and 
this is felt most deeply in hours when con^dction of sin is 
pecuharly pungent. The righteousness of Christ is 
infinite. We are made just by this, and by nothing 
else. Now that which gives to this righteousness any 
merit, gives it all merit. The divinity of him who 
obeys and suffers, exalts the meritorious obedience 
and suffering to a maximum. Were all the sons and 
daughters of Adam, who have been, are, and shall be, 
to gather in one numberless mass, with the Cross for 
its centre and object of desire, there were enough for 
all. When Jesus bowed his head and gave up the 
ghost, he completed a sacrifice which is absolutely il- 
limitable. Yea, though all worlds were peopled with 
sinners, here were enough for all; we say not in God's 
purpose, nor in his covenant growing out of purpose, 



232 T2^ THIRSTY INVITED. 

nor in the actual application of redemption according 
to covenant, but in the value of the Atonement. If 
more were to be saved, it would need no more right- 
eousness, and no more effusion of the sacred vital flood, 
although the contrary has been alleged as our belief. 
If this is not fulness of redemption, we must despair of 
communicating this idea by language. And yet we 
must proceed to add to this statement in a particular 
respect. The atonement might be complete, and yet 
not be effectual. In God's holy purpose, it needs to 
be applied. Some have represented the covenant of 
grace as simply placing man in '* a salvable state." We 
go further than this. Man may be in a salvable state, 
yet never reach a state of salvation. The plan of God 
proposes to bring men actually into the kingdom. The 
invitation is to come to a provided fulness of effectual 
grace ; to faith and its consequences ; to perseverance 
in holiness and everlasting life. These waters break 
over the verge of theu^ receptacle, and seem to fall like 
the inviting spray of a great fountain, holding out 
promise of infinite capacity beyond all that is seen. 
Tin we can conceive of something greater than God, we 
need have no fear of trusting the whole weight of our 
salvation on the method which he has revealed ; for he 
has made it, so to speak, commensurate Avith himself ; 
by laying his very divinity in pledge, and causing the 
value of the salvation to repose on the eternal glories of 
his own nature. 

II. The freeness of the offered gift awaits our notice. 



THE THIRSTY INVITED. 233 

This is implied by tlie strong terms of invitation, Ho, 
EVERY ONE, COME YE ! It is still more clearly signified 
by the words immediately following, where the figure 
is slightly modified, though the general idea of thirst 
remains prominent ; " yea come, buy wine and milk, 
without money and without price." It is not to a 
purchase, but a gift. The gratuitousness of the com- 
munication could not be more strongly expressed. It 
is here held forth and proclaimed with divine earnest- 
ness, that he who comes to the salvation of the gospel, 
receives it without any offer of recompense or any wor- 
thiness on his own part. The fountain of hfe has in- 
deed its price, a price which has been paid. It 
cost the agonies and death of the Son of God. To se- 
cure our salvation it was necessary that a struggle and 
a humiliation hitherto unknown in the universe should 
take place. The price has been laid down, for us, but 
not by us. Eternal justice has been satisfied on our 
behalf ; but to us the invitation is without money and 
without price. 

The reiteration of this truth may strike some as 
needless. They are ready to exclaim, " Who doubts that 
the gospel is free ? " In reply we must observe, that 
while no truth is more affirmed in our creeds, none is 
more denied in our practice. It is hard to make men 
believe, that they may come to the Lord Jesus Christ 
gratuitously, that is without any previous condition. 
There are few believers who do not remember the mo- 
ment when this unconditional freeness of the gospel 



234 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 

broke upon their minds as a great revelation. They 
had been lying long beside the pool of healing, waiting 
for some one to put them in. They thought there was 
a long and difficult preparation before they could ven- 
ture to come to Christ. They interpreted the invitation 
as made to such and such persons, having particular 
qualities, and they were not sure that these qualities 
were in themselves. They could not approach the 
fountain because they did not feel enough ; they dared 
not believe, because they did not grieve enough. Or, 
in some of the endlessly shifting varieties of delusive ex- 
perience, they were setting a price on pardon, and seek- 
ing to make up the amount ; they were working on 
their o^vn hearts, to make them more fit for Christ ; 
they were essaying a half-way work, which, without 
erasing the word " grace " from the record, should leave 
to self some of the glory of preparation. And the mo- 
ment when all this was swept away, is memorable in 
the behever's histor}^ It is the moment which imme- 
diately precedes faith. Up to this instant, he has 
been trying earnestly to do something, which shall 
make him more fit to receive Christ. Now, he sees 
that the whole deed of righteousness is done already, 
that its full value is ofi'ered to him in the gospel, and 
that he is authorized to accept it. 

But so subtle and protean is self -righteousness, that 
even the free words of the invitation may be distorted 
into a legal condition. " Every one that thirsteth." The 
busy demon at the ear, who dreads nothing so much 



THE THIRSTY IXYITED. 235 

as that the smner should beheve, here whispers, ' But 
perhaps you do not thirst, or you do not thirst enough, 
or you do not tliirst aright.' Such queries might in- 
deed be urged forever, and run to an infinite series, if 
any sort or kind of preparatory condition were required. 
The question might still be. Do I possess this condi- 
tion ? And it is a question which can never be an- 
swered. We have known persons who were engaged 
dming the entire course of their lives, in agitating the 
inquiry, whether they feel enough ; whether they feel 
then- need of Christ ; whether they are not too unfeel- 
ing ; whether they hate sin enough ; whether they are 
sufficiently in earnest. All these are proper questions, 
in relation to another matter ; but here they are out of 
place, and serve only to keep the sick away from the 
physician. These lingerings and scruples arise from 
a source, to which I beg your profoundest attention. 
They arise from founding hope on feelings of our oAvn, 
instead of founding it on God's veracity. The truth of 
God's promise is the everlasting rock. Here build 
and be safe. All else, especially aU within us, is a 
quicksand. The word of the Lord endureth forever. 
True faith utterly forgets itself, and credits the assur- 
ance of God's free pardon. It looks away from its own 
worthiness and its own unworthiness, and hears God 
saving " Ho 1 " " Come ye ! " Come without money and 
mthout price ! And it comes : without turning to the 
right hand or to the left. The question no longer is. 
What am I ? but what is God ? Is he true ? Has he 



236 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 

spoken ? It sets to its seal, that God is true. It ac- 
quiesces in a righteousness already finished. So it 
saves. 

The doctrinal truth which lies at the basis of aU 
these exercises is, that the procuring cause of our ac- 
ceptance with God, is not any thing done by us, or in 
us, not any work, preparation, frame or feeling, but 
only the perfect righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
The trumpet sounds thus, from over the fresh fountain, 
" Whosoever will, let him take of the water of life, 
FREELY." And the persuaded soul, now taught the great 
lesson of self-renunciation and self-forgetfulness, and 
swallowed up in admiration of the stupendous gift, falls 
into the open arms of dying Love. 

When a wretch, just at the point of expiring with 
thirst, opens his lips to receive the cool reviving draught, 
does he think of this act of his, though voluntary, as 
constituting any previous claim ? As little does the be- 
liever ascribe any meritorious virtue to his sinful be- 
lieving, which is no more than his acquiescence in the 
method which God has provided. Thus unbounded is 
the freeness of the offer which is made of all evangelical 
blessings, including pardon, peace, and eternal life. 

III. The universality of the offer is here : ''Ho, every 
one that thirsteth." Salvation, or in other words, 
Christ the author of salvation, is offered to all nations 
of mankind. The topic is so large and inviting, that I 
must admonish myself to dispatch it in few words. 
Nothing is more famihar to us, nothing was more strange 



THE THIRSTY INVITED. 237 

to the ancients, than that the favour of God should be 
made coextensive with the world ; and while it was a 
stumbling-block to Judaism, it was the theme which, 
of all others, lifted Paul to the highest rapture, as apos- 
tle of the Gentiles. The middle wall of partition was 
broken down. The vail of the temple was rent. The 
waters of life, seen in vision by Ezekiel, broke over the 
Eastern threshold of the temple, and flowed in a mighty 
stream. Jesus offered himself a sacrifice not for Israel 
only, but for all nations. " He is the propitiation for 
our sins," said John, " and not for ours only, but for the 
sins of the whole world." And coincident with this 
purpose was the great commission, '' Go ye into all the 
world and preach the gospel to every creature." It 
was foreseen by Isaiah, the evangelical prophet. In 
God's wonderful providence, grace had been limited to 
a chosen nation, but now the system was enlarged, so 
as to be a universal religion, and henceforth " God 
commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent." This 
blessed gospel is now on its triumphant progress 
through the earth, and the day is fixed in the counsels 
of heaven, when it shall be " made known to all nations 
for the obedience of faith." The gracious summons is 
to all realms and peoples. 

The blessings of religion are hereby offered to men 
of every state, class and character. To be a human 
creature, and to hear the gospel, is to come within the 
comprehension of this grace. It proclaims its fulness 
and freeness to young and old, rich and poor, learned 



238 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 

and simple, high and low. It does not single out cer- 
tain classes as those who may be saved, but declares 
that all may be saved, even as all who are athirst may 
drink. It does not indeed promise that men shall be 
saved in theh^ sins, for the very salvation delivers from 
sin, and this water is in each who tastes it a well of 
water springing up to everlasting life, and manifesting 
its virtue by holiness of thought, affection, speech and 
work. But as to the prerequisite for accepting the 
offer, the Gospel does not demand holiness ; this does 
not yet exist ; it is to be produced ; it is part of the 
benefit to be sought. No one should suppose himself 
excluded from the promise of free pardon and life, be- 
cause of any thing in his condition or character. Pro- 
vided he come as a sinner all athirst for pardon, and 
believes in Him who justifieth the ungodly, he is sure 
of welcome. And, as no man's proper name is in the 
grant, the only warrant which any has, is the promise 
which is made to all. The general invitation becomes 
particular, when it is appropriated by faith. In a mu- 
tinous army, if the commander or prince publishes an 
act of forgiveness and amnesty to all who are A^illing to 
receive it, the rebel who hears, believes and submits 
himself, makes the gratuity his own. Thousands hear 
the terms of the gospel, but do not accept them. But 
the reason why any one accepts and is saved, is not 
that the provision was not sufficient for all, or the proffer 
of life equally made to all, but simply that he, an un- 
deserving wretch, yields to the moving of the gracious 



THE THIRSTY IXYITED. 239 

Spirit, takes God at his word, and makes the universal 
offer his own particular salvation. To the very end of 
the present dispensation, the preaching of the gospel 
authorizes aU sinners of mankind to come and be freed 
from sin. 

More particularly, the salvation is free to the chief 
of sinners. This is necessary to its universality. If there 
were one degree of turpitude which was excepted from 
the general pardon, what sinful heart is there, which 
would not sometimes be tempted to think that degree 
its own? But there is none such. The infinite merit 
of Christ, which is the sole basis of the offer, proves 
that there is none such. The blood of Jesus Christ 
cleanseth from all sin. He is able to save to the utter- 
most, all that come unto God by him. There is no dye 
of guilt, which these waters do not cleanse. Considered 
in itself, there is no amount of iniquity which tran- 
scends the virtue of Christ's atoning sacrifice, or is be- 
yond the reach of God's gracious in\dtation. The very 
murderous treachery of Judas might have been par- 
doned, nay would have been pardoned, on his faith and 
repentance. If there is a sin in our day which is un- 
pardonable, it is such, not because the blood of Christ 
lacks efficacy, or because the promise of the gospel ex- 
cludes it, but because such sin, by its very nature, re- 
jects and despises the sacred blood and the gracious 
promise. Every one that thirsteth, though all crimes 
were accumulated and concentred on his head, may 
approach and be made whole. There are moments of 



240 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 

conviction, in which you might attempt to convince the 
sufferer of any thing rather than that such sins as his 
can be forgiven. He admits that others may be saved ; 
but not himself. The Spirit of God, in foresight of 
such cases, converted Saul of Tarsus, and has left on 
record that golden passage, for all ages, which ends 
thus, " I am chief." It is a doctrine most important 
to be preached, and to be often reiterated, in the spirit 
of the text, lest any rebel, however atrocious, should 
fail to admit the glorious universality of the offer. 
Some of the most signal trophies of grace, in which 
sovereign power and love have shone in the brightest 
colours, have been men whose crimes seemed to out- 
rage heaven ; but each of whom has learnt to cry 
mth David, *' Pardon mine iniquity, because it is 
great ! " 

The offer of life ought therefore to be considered by 
each individual hearer as addressed personally to him- 
self It is a counsel which applies to all divine com- 
mimications made in the house of God ; but pre-emi- 
nently to this, which offers eternal good to all without 
exception who "will receive it to their bosoms. The day 
and hour have come, in which, after such long delays, 
you may find in Jesus a merciful Saviour. The provi- 
dence which has brought you hither, and the influence 
which has opened your ear to hearken, make the mes- 
sage as truly your own, as if the voice of God in dis- 
tinct articulation uttered your individual name from 
heaven. Christ, with all his benefits, is yours, if, for- 



THE THIRSTY INVITED. 241 

saking all things else, you accept Mm as offered in this 
gospel. be persuaded to bow the stubborn neck, 
and bring the long reluctant lips to these celestial 
waters ! 

And let me add a word to Christian believers, 
whether newly converted or far advanced in pilgrimage. 
To you also is the invitation given. This is not a well in 
the desert, of which you may only once taste and must 
then leave forever, but a river of life, at which you may 
perpetually slake your thirst. The Israelites all drank 
of that Spiritual Rock which followed them ; and that 
Rock was Christ. The current from the smitten rock 
pursued the journeyings of the camp. The unchanging 
Redeemer in his fulness is always beside you and with- 
in your reach. As ye have received the Lord Jesus, so 
walk ye in him. Come buy wine and milk, without 
money and without price. You may be abeady justi- 
fied indeed ; but are there not a thousand wants within 
you which crave supply? Has not your path been 
through a wearisome land, and are you not sensible of 
an inward thirst, which nothing but spiritual refresh- 
ment can assuage? You need daily pmifying; you 
need daily increase of knowledge ; you need strength 
for the remaining journey, and healing for the fevered 
wounds of your conflict. Behold the boundless provi- 
sion, and hearken to the liberal summons. Approach 
anew to Him who is the source 'of all yom^ life, and who 
cries anew, " If any man thirst, let him come unto me 
and drink." 

16 



242 THE THIRSTY INYITED. 

Blessed be God — tlie source to whicli we are in- 
vited is a familiar fountain. In regard at least to our 
knowledge of it, it was the household-spring of our 
childhood ; and it has been our cool resort from the 
arid jom-neys of our mature years. And though we 
have, days without number, forsaken the fountain of 
living water, and hewed us out cisterns, which can hold 
no water, yet are we not deeply convinced, beloved, 
that there is none so full, none so heavenly, none so 
free ! Many a time have we gone to it, all parched 
with the ardours of our wearisome path, and found the 
Diffuser of gracious refreshment ready to take us back 
and satisfy us with his love. Again the sound of fall- 
ing waters is in our ears. Prom the clefts of the sav- 
ing Rock, the holy stream breaks forth in profusion. 
" The Spirit and the Bride say. Come. And let him 
that heareth say, Come. And whosoever will, let him 
take the water of life freely." 



XI. 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELiaiON. 



THE 

INWAEDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION * 



Ltjke xi. 40. 

"Did not he that made that which is without, make that which is 
within also ? " 

These words draw our attention to religion as 
something inward and spiritual. In this they resemble 
the rest of Christ's instructions, which were intended to 
bring men to a service of mind and heart, rather than 
of outward observance. The piety of the Pharisees was 
altogether external. Hence they were shocked when 
this new teacher disregarded all their forms. One of 
their sect, who on this occasion was the host of Jesus, 
wondered at his approaching the repast without the 
prescribed rite of baptism. " And the Lord said unto 
him, Now do ye Pharisees make clean the outside of 
the cup and the platter ; but your inward part is full 

* Kew York, April 9, 1854. 



246 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

of ravening and wickedness. Ye fools, did not lie that 
made that whicli is without, make that which is within 
also ? " That is. You forget that it is God with whom 
you have to do ; God, who sees the heart ; God, who 
created the spiritual part ; God, who is a Spirit, and 
demands a spiritual worship. My single theme is. Re- 
ligion AS an inward work. 

In attempting to exhibit the greatness of the work 
within, I shall observe the following order : 1 . The 
value of single holy sentiments and emotions, especially 
in their bearing on the eternal state. 2. The conse- 
quent importance of the hidden life, made up of such 
thoughts and exercises, and the greatness of the Spirit's 
work in sustaiaing such Hfe under the Gospel. 3. The 
unspeakable grandeur of the regenerating act, as the 
source of tliis life, and these emotions. 

I. God's scale of measurement is very different from 
ours. He accounts that small which seems gigantic to 
us ; and often esteems that great which we despise. 
Instances might be brought from things tangible and 
visible, though these are not to detain us. Por exam- 
ple, the structure of a violet or the wing of a fly is more 
complex and wonderful than the steam-engine or the 
telegraph. When we seek for grandeur, we generally 
think of size or of multitude; being governed very 
much by our own organs, or the petty objects around 
us. Especially are we prone to err, when we compare* 
things material with things moral. The two belong not 
so much to different classes as to different worlds. We 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 247 

cannot measure a good man against a mountain or a 
planet. We cannot adjust om^ balance and put a gen- 
erous tliouglit into one scale, and a thousand talents 
into the other. I may add, we are perpetually making 
this absurd attempt, and weighing spiritual realities in 
our earthly balance. The evil cleaves to us, even when 
we deliberately pass over into the domain of moral and 
religious truth. In estimating the results of pious 
endeavour, for instance,. we are governed in a great de- 
gree by the eclat of the triumph, the pubhcity of the 
benefit, and the tabular show of statistical enumeration. 
The day of final revelation may bring into focal hght 
and glory some objects which the world has not paused 
to look at. A poor widow cast into the treasury-box 
two mites, which make a farthing. The coin was base 
and trifling, and the act apparently insignificant. But 
the deed attracted the eye of infinite Wisdom, which 
penetrated beyond the ring of the paltry pieces, beyond 
the trembling wrinkled hand which timidly let them 
drop, behind the care-worn face of poverty and devo- 
tion, to the inward sentiment in that widow's heart. 
This it -was which gave value to the donation. This it 
was which God regarded ; setting on it a value above all 
the costly munificence of the opulent, above all the splen- 
dours of architecture in the temple, above all the glories 
of IMoriah and the holy city, nay — for all that we know 
— above all the material excellencies of this great globe 
itself. Yet this inward sentiment was invisible, impon- 
derable, inappreciable. When visitors were once ad- 



248 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

miring the library of a great prelate, lie said, " One 
thought of devotion outweighs them all." It was well 
said, and in a spirit belonging to our subject ; but who 
can bring forth the scales to verify the conclusion? 
The holy thought is too ethereal to await our tests. It 
may be evanescent, lasting but a moment ; yet there it 
is ; it is known of God ; it is the product of his Spirit ; 
it stands forever recorded with his approval. Let us 
freely confess, that in our common estimates we mis- 
judge with regard to the greatness of that which is 
mental and moral, especially where it is accompanied 
with no extension in time and space. "Perform the 
duty of this single moment," said the eccentric but pi- 
ous Lavater, "and thou hast done a good deed for all 
eternity." One holy act, one heavenly thought, one 
upward wish of an infant soul, may be precious in the 
view of God. Om- notion of. greatness is different ; we 
should say to a man, Go raise an army, subdue a king- 
dom, build a pyramid. There is a sublimity in moral 
rectitude, or conformity to the will of God, which we 
are ill qualified to measure, in our present state, where 
every thing is referred to physical laws. These laws, in 
their grandest manifestations, as those of orbs moving 
in harmonious silence through the astronomic spaces, 
are only as lasting as perishable matter. The hour 
may come when the attraction of gravitation shaU no 
longer be as the squares of the distances ; but the Hour 
shall never come, when faith, and love, and the image 
of God shall not be infinitely excellent. 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 249 

Does it not follow from this, that we are in clanger 
every moment of underrating those operations and ex- 
ercises which take place in the secrecy of the human 
bosom ? Even when we make them objects of atten- 
tion, which is seldom, we rate them by -the visible re- 
sults of the acts which they produce. But their moral 
quality has a value, independent of all overt effects, a 
quality which confers on these effects all their excel- 
lence. It is a solemn consideration, that the very emo- 
tion which this moment is bubbling to the surface of 
our internal fountain, may have a w^orld of importance, 
may be intensely sinful or intensely holy. And on this 
estimate, so much beyond our reach, may be founded 
some of God's awful determinations respecting the acts 
of creatm^es in this state of trial. Of ojie thing we may 
be certain ; the infinitely holy and omniscient Judge 
takes cognizance of what passes in hiunan minds. He 
cannot look with indifference on the thoughts, imagina- 
tions, wishes, purposes, choices and habits of our souls. 
Slightly as we regard them, each has its moral estimate 
in God's account. And this gives a serious importance 
to inward things, which, if duly pondered, might modify 
our whole view of life. Now it should be observed, that 
all these rapid transactions of the immaterial nature 
within us are absolutely hidden from the gaze of others. 
Man looketh at the outward appearance. The subject 
of these sentiments or emotions may be a recluse, the 
tenant of a deserted isle. Nevertheless he is a soul, 
spiritual and immortal, and there is that gouig on 



250 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

within him which may outstretch in its greatness the 
boundaries of the vastest monarchies. Your hues of 
measurement by inches, leagues, or semidiameters of 
orbits, cannot be apphed to spirit. That soul, on 
God's scale, may be longer and wider and higher and 
deeper than the whole material universe. Its acts and 
fluctuations have a relation to God's law, to God's 
image, and to immortality. Hence the great work of 
God is expended, not on the mundane fabric, which is 
to perish, but on the soul, which is to last eternally. 

To approach a juster valuing of inward things, pause 
with me a moment or two on this last thought. Man 
looks forward to an interminable existence. The con- 
tinuity of his being is unbroken. His conscious iden- 
tity is to suffer no rupture or suspension. We natu- 
rally suppose that his knowledge will increase, and with 
it his capacity of emotion. Now the grand truth of 
om- system is, that om^ unmortal condition is to be fixed 
here. Happy or miserable are we to be, according to 
what we are in this wol'ld ; and happy or miserable in 
degrees apportioned to om^ soul's state here. The 
character, though not the amount of holiness, is settled 
before death. The entire series of our experience below 
is a preparation for what awaits us above. There is not 
a purpose, a desii'e, or a state of mmd, in this om^ pil- 
grimage, which has not its bearing on the eternal career. 
What importance does this confer on even the most 
transient exercises of the soul ! Each is the seed which 
embosoms in itself a fruitfulness of immortal joy or 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 251 

woe. Let no man, then, think hghtly of what is pass- 
ing in those darkened chambers. Angels — ^if angels 
see aught of human hearts — hang with unutterable in- 
terest over the struggles of the spirit, as now it wrestles 
with a strong temptation, and now emerges into light 
and love. Man beholds it not, save by some faint infre- 
quent indications ; but all these workings are naked to 
the eye of God. 

II. The importance of the inward life, made up of 
such thoughts and exercises, is obvious. Heflection 
on so much as has been offered, wiU lead us to recon- 
sider some of our hasty judgments as to the importance 
of that invisible work which is going on behind the 
curtains of every undying soul. To the gifted eye there 
is revealed a battlefield, over which principahties and 
powers hover, with a wistful interest, and in comparison 
with Avhich the conflicts of a Pharsalia or a AVaterloo — ■ 
if we leave out the consideration that each combatant 
is, after aU, an immortal creature — must dwindle to a 
mere contest of insects. In a sense higher than they 
ever dreamed themselves, is the saying of the ancients 
true, that the soul is a microcosm, a httle world. It has 
its periods, its convulsions, its wars, its deluges, its 
revolutions and its conflagrations. To each of us, in- 
dividually, it is more than the universe itself, being his 
aU ; and this it is, silently, secretly, and without respect 
to other creatures. Each soul has that to transact, in 
God's sight and with God, which throws into the rank 
of things indifferent the shock of nature and the crash 



25^ THE INWAKDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

of worlds. The eternity beyond is made to depend on 
the character this side of death, as holy, or the reverse. 
Who can refrain from reiterating the exclamation of our 
Lord, " AVhat shall it profit a man if he gain the whole 
world and lose his own soul ? " 

A reigning error among all those who profess Chris- 
tianity, is, that we care more for that which is without, 
than that which is mthin. And even when we seem to 
seek inward reformation, we begin too frequently with 
the stream instead of the fountain, the external rather 
than the internal. It is a great moment in any Chris- 
tian's life, when he awakes to the conviction, that of all 
the works he has to perform, the greatest is within his 
own breast. Even if it had no fruit outwardly, this 
cultm-e would be momentous in regard to eternity ; but 
indeed it is the very germ of all fruitfulness. " Keep 
thy heart with all dilligence," etc. Ministers and peo- 
ple may give themselves too exclusively to visible activ- 
ity, and then the lamentation is in place, " They made 
me keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard 
have I not kept." This arises from low thoughts of 
the work of God within the soul. " Did not he that 
made that which is without, make that which is within 
also ? " Nay, did he not rather make that which is 
within? Is it not this, on which his eye is chiefly 
fixed ? The humblest thoughts of ourselves are consist- 
ent with a profound reverence for the spiritual influence 
in our bosoms. It is a great and awful fact, that the 
Holy Spirit inhabits the behever. " What ? know ye 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 253 

not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost ? " 
If this internal work be neglected, poverty will come 
upon all our Christian Hfe. The noise and bustling vanity 
of the age tend directly toward such disregard. It must 
be opposed by renewed diligence in cultivating deep, 
inward, spiritual religion. We must not measure our 
attainments in piety, by palpable usefulness, or the stir 
of beneficent action, however much this is om^ duty. 
The grand affair of life is the building up of the spir- 
itual temple. We may disparage the power that is 
operating within. It is the common mistake of retired 
and suffering Christians. Because they are not called 
to pubhc manifestations, they think there is no advance- 
ment. But knowledge may be rising in a compact and 
sohd structure. Paith may be diffusing its mighty in- 
fluence on every side. Holy devotion may be sending 
up clouds of incense, acceptable to God, Intercessory 
prayer may be stretching its arms of love, to take in all 
the brotherhood of Christ and all the family of man. 
Appetite and passion may be dying, by repeated blows. 
Purity, like that of Jesus, may be arising as a picture 
on the soul's tablet, dim perhaps, but brightening. Pa- 
tience may be approaching to its perfect work. Sub- 
mission to God's chastising hand may be gaining 
strength in the furnace. The world may be waning, 
and the attraction of heaven waxing more luminous. 
Joy in the Lord may be like the fragrance of a field 
which God hath blessed. And gentle humihty, the or- 
nament and preservative of aU graces, may be growing 



254 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

more constant. Is all this nothing ? Is it not the very- 
process to which our Master calls us ? It is he that 
maketh that which is within. Such reflections are 
needful for many a solitary behever, who sighs to think 
that no opportunity is given for great deeds in God's 
behalf. " They also serve, who only stand and wait." 
There is growth in the world of vegetable nature, not 
only during simshine, but in the night. There may be 
progress, even where there is no joy. The roots may 
be striking doAvnwards into the soil, and the vital 
juices of the stock may be maturing, while the late col- 
oured flowers are folded in pensive weakness and weep- 
ing with night-dews. Inward, inward must we go, for 
the true elaboration of gracious virtues. Let this be 
strongly impressed on those whose circle is bounded by 
the walls of a narrow home. Let the poor mother, 
whose dependant charge binds her all day long to the 
humblest domestic service ; let the widow, who cher- 
ishes her faith amidst complete insulation ; let the be- 
reaved lonely one, whom the world has dropped from 
its catalogue ; let the invalid, who is cut ofl* from all 
social labour ; let the aged, who wonders why a useless 
life is lengthened out, know and believe, that to them 
also it is granted to glorify God as truly as to the king 
or the apostle. Let them cease to measure the work 
of grace by the external standards of a human activity. 
Did not he that made that which is without make that 
which is within also ? 

The same reasoning may be applied to another class 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 255 

of instances, about which there is frequent misappre- 
hension in the churches and even in the minds of the 
ministry. We too much measure the work of God 
among men by the single criterion of the number of 
souls converted. This, it need scarcely be said, is a 
glorious work. But the Spirit of God has other opera- 
tions besides the conversion of sinners. It is not for 
us to bring the two into comparison. Of the influences 
of the Spirit mentioned in Scripture, the great majority 
concern the inward work on souls already renewed. 
The apostolical writings are almost exclusively address- 
ed to those who are called saints. Sheep must not only 
be gathered into the fold, but led to pastm-e. We 
might, by carrying out the false view now censured, 
lay thousands of foundations, without rearing any edi- 
fice. Or rather, we might seek to lay them ; for it is 
ordinarily found, that where gracious experience in be- 
lievers becomes shallow, there are few conversions. 
Now the truth to be considered is, that in every renew- 
ed soul, God is carrying forward an invisible work, 
more important than the administration of a kingdom. 
How the apostle Paul yearned for the advancement of 
this, in churches and individuals ! How he laboured 
and prayed for it ! I find nothing similar, in the expe- 
rience of brethren, or my own. " I would," says he to 
the Colossians, " that ye knew what great conflict I 
have for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many 
as have not seen my face in the flesh ; that their hearts 
might be comforted, being knit together in love, and 



256 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

unto the full assurance of understanding, to the ac- 
knowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the 
Father, and of Christ." 

A wise Christian will watch for the blooming of a 
single grace in the garden of the Lord, with as real an 
expectation, (but O how much loftier !) as that with 
which the tasteful maiden looks for the opening of some 
cherished flower in her conservatory. A single grace, 
that buds and blows, comes from God, and is a thing of 
beauty in the esteem of Christ, purchased by his sor- 
rows, and part of his immortal wreath. With what in- 
tense anxiety will the devoted florist attend the opening 
of some rare and extraordinary flower, as of the Victo- 
ria Regina, or the Night-blooming Cereus ! Let us 
not be less awakened when a Christian soul bursts 
forth into the manifestation of faith, hope or charity. A 
believer, we will suppose, long infected by an unrelenting 
malice, at length comes to the point of exercising a free 
and full forgiveness of the offender, even as God for 
Christ's sake forgave him. It is an inward work ; but 
how lovely in the sight of heaven ! What an epoch 
does it mark in the soul's history ! Call not those la- 
bom's unfruitful, which are blessed to one such result. 
Or a formal, worldly, lingering disciple, is brought at 
length to an entire and absolute dedication to God of 
all the heart so long withheld. Or, some mountain of 
avarice is heaved off'; and the believer henceforth holds 
his possessions as a steward for Christ. Or, a sufferer 
is made to give up his own will, and bow with loving 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 257 

resignation to the ^^nW. of God. Or, hope suddenly be- 
comes assurance, and the fear of death is taken away. 
These are God's daily works in the church, and we 
offend against Sovereign grace if we despise them. 
Because they are inward, they can be detailed in no re- 
port of successes ; but they are not the less to the praise 
of almighty love. When such flowers are blooming in 
the garden of the Lord, we must not complain that all is 
winter, or speak as we hastily do, of the absence of the 
Spirit. 

III. But lest any should misunderstand me, I now 
acknowledge, that the greatest of God's inward works 
is the work of Regeneration. It is this which is the root 
of aU subsequent growth. To this our Lord remands 
the Pharisees instead of aU cleansing of the " outside of 
the cup and the platter," saying, " Make the tree good." 
No change from better to better can be compared with 
the change fi^om darkness to light. No point in the 
history of a soul has such importance as its new birth. 
At this moment only it begins to live, in a spiritual 
sense. The very transition into heaven is not so criti- 
cal ; for this is but the continuance of a life abeady be- 
gun. There is joy in the presence of the angels of 
God, at every such transformation. "We may talk of 
great junctures in human hfe ; but it were trifling to 
compare any of them with the translation from being an 
heir of wrath to being a member of Christ. All dis- 
tinctions of rank disappear when such a boon as this is 
conferred. It is to be feared that few kings are made 
17 



258 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

children of God ; but suppose such a case. Let him 
be the greatest monarch on earth, and at the most high 
and pahny state of dominion and gloiy. Yet the day 
and the hour in which he is called to newness of hfe, he 
is exalted beyond all the pomp of earth. Or take the 
case of some Lazarus of the street, ulcerous and forlorn. 
The Spirit of God touches him, and straightway he is 
richer than all the thousands in purple and fine hnen. 
God has wrought on him the great inward work. 
Wlien some infant soul is savingly affected by regener- 
ating grace, it is more glorious than the creation of a 
new world. The same is true of the veriest slave, the 
Hottentot, CafFre or Cannibal, who is made a new crea- 
ture. Is it so then, that we are hving in a world (the 
only one) where such wonders of regenerating power 
are transacted every day ? Have we on every hand 
those who are still ignorant of this mighty operation ? 
Is there in our possession the instrumentality by which 
God is pleased to bring the dead to hfe ? And is our 
period for applying it, and seeking the salvation of men, 
exceedingly short ? Then, brethren, it is high time for 
us to start from our stupor, and begin to long and la- 
bour for the renewal of the sinner. I have not under- 
valued other modes of usefulness ; but unless this is 
gained, aU is lost ! To be the means in God's hand of 
converting a sinner from the error of his way, is the 
greatest honour of which we have any knowledge. 
Most of us would rejoice to save the life of a fellow- 



THE mWAKDNESS OF TRUE RELIGIOl^. 259 

creature ; what ought we not readily do or sacrifice to 
rescue an immortal soul ! 

How far have we advanced in our proposed inquiry ? 
We have seen, first, the value of single graces, in an im- 
mortal soul ; next, the value of an inward Hfe, compre- 
hensive of these graces; and lastly, the momentous 
greatness of regeneration, which confers and establishes 
this hfe. Such is Religion, as an inward work. 

The whole current of reflections tends naturally to- 
wards an apphcation to ourselves. The Lord our Sov- 
ereign is the creator of the inner as well as the outer 
man. He demands the homage and service of the spir- 
itual part. On this his glance of scrutiny is unchange- 
ably fixed. In this he finds the subject of his greatest 
transformations and triumphs. There must be change 
here, within, or all is ruin for eternity. How vain the 
attempt to satisfy his righteous claim, by the tender of 
an external compliance ! Yet this is the attempt which 
besotted men are perpetually repeating. The particular 
mode of observance may vary with age and country, but 
the rehance is still on something which is not the heart. 
It may be the cleansing the outside of the cup and the 
platter ; or the paying of tithes, ablutions, ceremonial 
sanctity. It may be alms, the repetition of prayers, the 
attendance on rites and forms. It may go further, and 
be the profession of the true religion, and the rendering 
of an unblemished outward morality. Yet in all this the 
principal thing is unprovided. Nothing has yet reach- 
ed " the hidden man of the heart." There has been no 



260 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 

work of God upon the secret motive principle. The na- 
ture is unchanged. All is unregenerate. How can we 
speak and hear these things, without sending forth the 
anxious inquiry, " Have we experienced this transfor- 
mation ? " What avails our external activity or our high 
profession, if the heart remains untouched ? One may 
be pure before men, and yet may hear Christ saying to 
him, " Your inward part is full of ravening and wicked- 
ness." Outward obedience is invaluable, when it is the 
fruit of a holy heart ; but all the teaching of our Lord 
shows that the Avork must begin within. Obedience is 
the child of Love. Prophecy, alms and martyrdom are 
nothing without this inward principle. " Though I be- 
stow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give 
my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profit- 
eth me nothing." Has there been a change within ? 
Does it reveal itself by new views, tempers, desires, 
joys and acts ? Ah, beloved brethren, how much bet- 
ter are most of us outwardly than inwardly 1 How 
much higher is the esteem of others for us, than our 
judgment of om-selves ! And yet we know ourselves 
but in part. If all those points of our external beha- 
viour could be abstracted, which are produced by a 
reference to human opinion ; by a fear of losing repu- 
tation as Christians ; by regard for consistency of char- 
acter ; by vanity ; by custom ; by fear ; by shame ; 
how much would remain of genuine vitality, of regard 
for God's law, of holy operative love? If nothing, 
then are we but as whited sepulchres ; and the great 



THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 261 

hidden work lias yet to be begun. No perfection of 
exterior service can make up for a want of the hfe of 
God in the soul. The reformation of things outward, 
and the performance of good acts, unless from a prm- 
ciple of regard to God, are only like hanging fruits on 
the branches of a sapless tree, dead to the very root. 
So Chiist taught. So the gospel everywhere affirms. 
Except a man be born again, he cannot see the King- 
dom of God. If those who hear me, in conscious im- 
penitence, would but lay this to their hearts, it would 
have an awakening power. The medicine is very bit- 
ter ; but it is for your lives. The process of return to 
God is humbling and painful, and involves many des- 
pairing thoughts of your own condition. Por this rea- 
son, multitudes are deterred. But is it not better to 
come to this reckoning in time, than in eternity ? A 
great step is taken, when the soul is convinced that 
there really is such a thing as inward renovation, and 
that this has yet to be experienced. Shrink not from 
the revelation of yourself to yourself. Use no profane 
forces, to drive away the impression which half awakens 
you to say, " I will arise and go to my Pather ! " That 
whispered suggestion is from above. Such stirrings are 
sometimes the heavings of lungs to receive the first 
vital breath. God grant you this inward work of al- 
mighty power ! 



XII. 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED * 



Acts xi. 23. 

And exhorted them all, that with purpose of heart they would cleave 
unto the Lord." 

After tlie addition of new converts to tlie Church, 
the matter of next importance is that they should abide 
steadfast and go on improving. It is not enough that 
they should sit down at the Lord's Table, nor even that 
they should be truly renewed. Christian love will fur- 
ther desire that they should adorn their profession, and 
go on to form a character of Christian strength and 
lustre. The New Testament abounds in proofs that 
this was the wish and aim of early teachers and breth- 
ren. As apostles and evangelists went from land to 
land, it was unavoidable that they should often leave 
groups of inexperienced behevers, perhaps reeking with 

* New York, May 16, 1858. 



266 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 

the associations of Gentilism. To prevent the perver- 
sion or vexation of such, was a principal intention of 
apostohc epistles and visitations. Por example, at An- 
tioch, one of the earliest centres of missionary diffusion, 
where the disciples were first called Christians, some 
of the brethren, scattered by the persecution in Judea, 
had been very successful in preaching the Lord 
Jesus. V. 20 : " The hand of the Lord was vrith them, 
and a great number believed, and turned unto the 
Lord." These are the ancient and authorized terms ; 
of which we need not be shy ; they ' believed,' they 
' turned unto the Lord ;' that is, to the Lord Jesus. 
Tidings of such conversions are always welcome to the 
Saints. News came to the Church which was in Jeru- 
salem, who deputed Barnabas, often named afterwards, 
in connexion with Paul, to visit the new believers of 
Antioch. "AVho, when he came, and had seen the 
grace of God, was glad, and exhorted them all, that 
with purpose of heart they would cleave unto the 
Lord." Such then is the primitive strain of advice to 
new converts ; and it is as pregnant and pertinent now 
as it was then. But it contains some peculiarities of 
expression, upon which much depends. Who is meant 
by the Lord, to whom the numerous converts were ex- 
horted to cleave ? Por those who have carefully studied 
New Testament usage, the question can have but one 
answer. The Lord Jesus Christ, mentioned just be- 
fore, V. 20, as having been preached to them, and to 
whom they " turned," v. 21, is undoubtedly he to whom 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 267 

they were to cleave. Such is the force of the name 
Lord, when used absolutely. Here there is the addi- 
tional reason, that the Redeemer, as Jesus, is expressly 
named in the context. So, v. 24, when " much people 
was added unto the Lord,'' we readily understand, that 
as converts they gave themselves to Jesus Christ, and 
enKsted under his banner. And there is special ten- 
derness in this view, which regards entrance on a reh- 
gious life as coming into immediate connexion with the 
beloved Son of God and Saviour of sinners. 

But what is meant, when converts are exhorted to 
cleave unto the Lord Jesus ? The word is significant ; 
to cleave is to cling, to adhere, to stick fast ; and where 
the blessed Redeemer is the object, it is to remain in 
close and permanent connexion with him, so as not only 
to be constant and persevering, but in perpetual fruit- 
bearing progress. The unfolding of this, however, is 
now to be our topic, in a series of brief particulars. 

The grand affair of life, to be held before new con- 
verts, is that they cleave unto the Lord. This is so to 
be pressed upon their minds, as that they shall set about 
it with what the text calls " purpose of heart." It is 
something that asks the will. The duty enjoined is 
the result of foresight and deliberate purpose ; not one 
of those things which we fall into, or are overtaken by ; 
not a matter of indolent acquiescence or passive resig- 
nation ; but what we arrive at by bent of soul, plenary 
choice, and a decision which disregards all risks. The 
one thing which the right-minded convert lays before 



268 ^^^^ DISCIPES ADMONISHED. 

him as indispensable, and seeks to compass by every 
effort, is to cling fast to Jesus. This the term imports. 
And, unquestionably, the direction implies that the 
persons thus exhorted are already near to Christ, nay, 
joined to him. How absurd were it, to ask one to 
abide where he is not. These people of Antioch were 
already "turned," and " added" to the Lord. There 
they were ; and there — so Barnabas desired and plead- 
ed — they were to abide. By which we are reminded 
of our Lord's so frequent use of a term, radically the 
same in Greek, though different in English ; as when he 
says, " Abide in me, and I in you " — " if ye abide in me, 
and my words abide in you " — " if a man abide not in 
me, he is cast forth," a withered vinebranch. These 
are suggestive of many useful thoughts to newly awak- 
ened persons, for whose sake we must now notice 
several senses in which they must abide in Jesus, or 
cleave and cling to him. The attention of those who 
lately, or within a few months, have acknowledged 
Christ before men, is particularly invited to these expo- 
sitions of the duty, which above all others now concerns 
them. What is included then in their cleaving unto 
the Lord ? 

I. To cleave or cling fast unto the Lord Jesus, is 

TO ADHERE TO THE CHRISTIAN ReLIGION. The Cvil to 

which this stands opposed is apostasy, or drawing back 
unto perdition. The guilt and ruin of this were incur- 
red by many even dming om- Lord's personal ministry. 
They tm^ned back and walked no more with him. Of 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. . 269 

many the apostles had to say, " They went out from 
us, but they were not of us." Salutary fear of so tre- 
mendous a folly, sin and destruction, is often a means 
of preventing it. To cleave to the Lord is the purpose, 
and should be the endeavour, of every Christian disci- 
ple, however tempted to go back. The pilgrim meets 
many on their return. Even if these deserters never 
abandon the communion, they turn back in their hearts 
unto Egypt. After the solemnities accompanying their 
confession of Christ, they give up all signs of evangeh- 
cal piety, and hve just as they did before ; usually to 
go greater lengths still, from having done so horrid a 
violence to their moral sense. But it is the full pur- 
pose of a sincere believer, however weak, that he Avill 
never abandon his Lord. All unite in Peter's cry, 
"Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of 
eternal life." 

II. To cleave unto the Lord, is to adheue to him 

AS THE REVEALER OF TRUTH. This stauds OppOScd to 

all departures into heresy and error. To abide in Christ, 
is to abide in his words. The danger of the contrary is 
great, and is increased when the endangered person is 
wise in his oAvn conceit, and thinks his own powers 
sufficient for his protection. Early times saw such, 
predicted of old as " heady, highminded,'' " men of 
corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith." 2 Tim. 
iii. Some, in Paul's day, "having swerved," had 
"turned aside unto vain jangling; desiring to be 
teachers of the law ; understanding neither what they 



270" ^^'^ DISCIPLES ADMOXISHED. 

say, nor whereof they affirm/' 1 Tim. i. 6. And the 
same apostle foretells a day, when men " will not en- 
dure sound doctrine — shall turn away their ears from 
the truth, and shall be turned unto fables." 2 Tim. iv. 3. 
These are sufficient warnings to make us cleave unto 
the Lord, as the fountain of the truth which we have 
beheved. Let the young professor beware of that 
which is mentioned as characteristically the sin of the 
novice ; viz., the being puffed up with pride, the con- 
demnation of the devil. 1 Tim. iii. 6. Let liim sus- 
pect the zealous vender of a religious nostrum, which 
shall give him in some compendious way a peace 
not warranted by common Christian experience. Let 
liim remember, that the new convert, whose appetite 
often surpasses his power of discernment, is singularly 
hable to be duped by error. Let him humbly dechne 
the office of teaching that which he has scarcely learnt. 
Let him be "swift to hear, slow to speak." Thus, 
as new-bom babes desiring "the sincere milk of the 
Word," that they may grow thereby, young Christians 
shall acquire sohd strength and confirmation. In or- 
der to all this, the only security is to abide in Christ, 
as the Prophet of his people, clinging to him for in- 
struction, and waiting at the posts of his doors, as the 
primeval Wisdom ; the Way, the Truth, and the Life ; 
the Sun of righteousness ; the true Light, which light- 
eth every man that cometh into the world. Thus, with 
fatherly affection, speaks the apostle John : " And now, 
httle children, abide in him ; that when ye shall ap- 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 271 

pear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed be- 
fore him at his coming." 

III. To cleave unto the Lord Jesus is to make him 

THE OBJECT OF OUR CONSTANT FAITH. This is the op- 
posite of a most easy and dangerous habit, namely, un- 
belief. Such clinging of the soul to Christ regards 
him as our Atoning Priest. If we ever came to him, 
we came thus reposing on him for righteousness and 
salvation ; if we cleave to him, stay by him, embrace 
him, hang upon him, and never let him go, it will be 
by constantly reiterated acts of the same faith. AU 
strength and joy rest upon this foundation ; all fruit of 
praise and love grows out of this root. "As ye have 
therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in 
him, rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the 
faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with 
thanksgiving." As preventive of the evils already 
mentioned, there is no such power in anything as in 
faith. As it apprehended Christ first, so it holds him 
fast. Not more fitly does the babe lie in the mother's 
arms, than the young believer is recumbent amidst the 
pardoning mercies and loving kindnesses of the atoning 
Lord. Though aged in the world's computation, he 
may be only a child in experience. Therefore he clings 
to his strength. If accepted, it is in the Beloved ; if 
pardoned, it is as ungodly. Could his soul by possi- 
bility be for one instant severed from his Surety, he 
would be as unprotected as ever ; hot thunderbolts of 
justice would find liim out. His only safety is in being 



272 ^^^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 

covered and shielded by the blood of expiation ; and 
this is over him just so long as he is " in Christ." The 
emphatic preposition in imports not merely adherence, 
but union ; and this miion is set forth by diversities in 
language, for human speech labours with the unaccus- 
tomed thought. Turn again to John xv. 4, " Abide in 
me, and I in you!' " He that abideth in me, and I in 
7dm, the same bringeth forth much fruit ; for loitliout 
me ye can do nothing." 

All other advices to new converts are less important 
than this, of looking constantly to the Cross of Jesus 
Christ. When you cease to do this, it will be a breach 
of continuity between the vine and the branch ; the 
vital sap will flow interruptedly ; and the vivid green 
\vill give place to dryness and decay. So long as you 
hate the remains of sin, and truly repent of them ; so 
long as you feel shame and grief for the transgressions 
of former days ; so long as you are disheartened with 
daily failures ; so long as conscience challenges you for 
corruptions, you will be constrained to cleave unto the 
Lord, and to live under the baptism of his cross ; that, 
with Paul, you " may be found in Him,'' " not having 
your own righteousness, which is of the law, but that 
which is through the faith of Jesus Christ, even the 
righteousness which is of God by faith." 

IV. To cleave unto the Lord, no man can deny, is 

TO ABIDE BY HIS COMMANDMENTS, OWuiug him aS OUT 

Ruler. Messiah is a King. Tliis he avowed to Pilate. 
In this character he is received by every repentant soul. 



KEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 273 

Every rebel who lays down his arms, approaches the 
throne of Jesus and does him homage. New converts 
to any religion follow a leader, and are named after a 
head. To cling to hun and jield to his ^^ill, follows as 
a matter of com'se. Entering on a Christian career is 
not a mere change of opinion, school or party, but the 
beoinnino- of a new life. Everv one understands it to 
imply a new path of conduct. What Christ our Lord 
demands, comes before us sometimes in the shape of 
positive act, and sometimes in the shape of forbearance 
or abstinence. Either way, we own liis government, 
obey his will, and receive law at his hands. Either 
way, we adhere to him as our Lord. The hfe indicated 
by these demands includes the highest morality; so 
that it is a solecism to speak of an immoral Christian. 
"V\Tiy should we cite chapter and verse ? The entire 
New Testament, from the Sermon on the Mount to the 
denunciations at the close of the Apocal}^se, bears on 
its face the prohibition of every sin, in Christ's follower. 
Inward, secret, spiritual sins are probed for and ex- 
tracted to the hght by the ethics of the Gospel. The 
conversion which does not, in some good degree, con- 
vert a man from his sins, is spurious. Abiding in 
Christ is abiding in his ser^'ice, walking in his will, do- 
ing that which shall please him, and Hving to his gloiy. 
And this derives new force from the consideration, that 
hohness, whether of heart or conduct — in other words, 
cleaving to the Lord in duty — can by no means be 
secured, except by cleaving to him in acts of personal 
18 



274 ^"EW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 

faitli and affection. But this leads us to another point, 
which may indeed be considered the very same under a 
new aspect. 

V. To cleave and cling to the Lord Jesus, is to 
FOLLOW HIS EXAMPLE. To cvcry couvcrt he says, as 
to those beside the lake of Gennesaret, " Pollow me ! " 
This is more than obedience ; it is imitation ; it is do- 
ing not only what the Master commanded, but what he 
did himself. We walk in his very footsteps, as closely 
as we know ; that is, we cleave to him. It is as though 
we took hold of his skirts, amidst the crowd of conflict- 
ing tempters ; determined not to lose sight of him, but 
to keep him always in our presence. The instances 
are too numerous for detail ; let us attend to two leading 
cases. 1. The Lord went about doing good. Sincere 
disciples follow him in this. Remembering what he 
said about the twelve hours of the day, and the night 
which Cometh, they are on the alert. " I must work 
the work of him that sent me, while it is day," is both 
his language and theirs. Active beginnings are useful, 
and none can begin too soon. Of most it may be said, 
w^hat they are during their first months of profession, 
they will be through hfe. Selfish pleasure, in the com- 
forts of experience and ordinances, may fix the soul in a 
habit of religious inactivity. Duties which do not ter- 
minate on ourselves, are not easily remembered by the 
narrow-minded. Hence the adage should make our 
ears tingle : "To do good and to communicate, forget 
not, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 275 

There is no stinuiliis to labour, like the example of 
Christ. 2. The Lord bore his Cross. Sincere con- 
verts come near him, and cleave to him in suffering. 
" And whosoever," said his own blessed hps, " doth not 
bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my dis- 
ciple." We are not to make our own cross ; that were 
superstition or presumption ; but we are to bear Clmst's 
cross. Learn to expect it. Try your shoulders before- 
hand. Count the cost. Ask yourself concerning the 
cup which he drank, and the baptism which he was 
baptized with. Many a convert runs well, for a while ; 
but the cross affiights him. He that receives the word 
into stony places " heareth it, and anon mth joy re- 
ceiveth it." You expect great perseverance from such 
warmth. Yet what follows ? " He hath not root in 
himself, but dureth for a while ; for when tribulation or 
persecution ariseth, because of the Word, ' ah ! ' by and 
by he is offended," he stumbles, he falls, he is left be- 
hind. Many a summer-bird which kept on the wing 
and caroUed gaily during the May season of revival and 
sacraments, flees away at the first approach of storms. 
We must make up our account to cleave to Jesus, 
through good report and evil report. And in every 
other duty we are to walk as he also walked. 

VI. To cleave to Christ is to abide by him, as the 

FOUNTAIN OF GRACE AND GIVER OF THE SPIRIT. At 

regeneration the once alienated, severed, depraved soul 
is touched by the Holy Spirit, who employs truth or 
light as liis instrument. At this instant of iHumina- 



276 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 

tion, the rescued being is brought into connexion with 
Christ as the Head. At tliis engrafting into Christ, the 
\'itahty of the Head becomes the vitahty of the mem- 
ber. Or, better to preseiTC the harmony of om^ figure, 
the hfe of the vine is the hfe of the branch ; all from 
spiritual union. To maintain this union, is to cleave 
mito the Lord. As the convert has been brought to 
Christ Jesus, so he is to cling to him. The analogy of 
the Vine, John xv., is explanatory of this : " As the 
branch," says our Lord, "cannot bear fruit of itself, 
except it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye 
abide in me." "As the Father hath loved me, so have 
I loved you; abide [continue] in my love,'' that is, 
* cleave to me ; cling to me ; hold fast to my love.' 

A consciousness of weakness belongs to the most 
thorough converts. Humility is a sign of conversion. 
Not a desponding, but a trustful humihty ; because the 
child of God rests in Jesus, as his strength ; and hears 
the whisper, " My grace is sufficient for thee." 

Prayer in secret is the chief means of clinging to 
Clmst in this sense. In closet devotion, unless it be 
formal, scanty, or hurried, the young Christian comes 
to the feet of the Lord, touches the hem of his garment, 
and gazes into the eyes which beam vnih. love, even if 
he does not lean upon his bosom. Cleaving to Jesus, 
he has communion with him, in regard to all his offices, 
excellencies, and divine graces. Using the word prayer 
to comprise all devotional contemplations and ascrip- 
tions as well as beseechings, it is the very cleaving of the 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 2^7 

loving soul to our Saviour ; and is the capital means of 
growth in grace. '' Praying will make us leave off sin- 
ning, or sinning will make us leave off praying." Such 
converse with God, especially over the inspired volume, 
secures against defection and error, procures pardons, 
sprinkling of the expiatory blood, and the Spirit of 
adoption ; mortifies secret, Imteig, insidious sins, quick- 
ens the pulse of zeal and the pace of service ; arms for 
battle, lifts the courage, and sweetens the cross. Thus 
may the new disciple advance day by day, looking 
unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of his faith ; cleav- 
ing unto Jesus, the vital heart, from whom all the cir- 
culation of holy thought, feehng, choice and act derives 
its impulse. 

VII . Finally — ^To cleave unto the Lord, is to cling 
to him AS OUR portion and happiness. No one is 
converted to a naked sense of duty, allowance of obhga- 
tion, wilhngness to suffer, or purpose to do right. AU 
these grow out of discipleship, but they are its acid 
fruits ; riper, mellower experiences load the branches on 
the sunny side. Faith looks to Jesus, recognises his 
divine triumphant loveliness, yields to his invincible 
charms, and sinks with deHght into the arms of his in- 
finite affection. Abide there, young disciple, re- 
cent behever ; cleave to that bosom ; hang upon that 
arm. Let Jesus be not only thy Saviour, but thy 
bliss. Let thy soul's utterance be : "I charge you, 
ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the 
hinds of the field, that ye stir not up nor awake my love 



278 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 



till He please ! " That so high an enjoyment of Christ's 
presence should be uninterrupted, or even very frequent, 
is perhaps more than we ought to expect in the present 
mingled state, where shower and sunshine checker our 
April-day. But if you have not attained to knowledge 
of any such preciousness in Christ, ah ! there are yet 
before you chambers opening into your porch of early 
profession, all replete with joys. If you mean to perse- 
vere in a cold, staid routine, of heartless, joyless, tear- 
less religion, it is not hard to predict that you will swell 
the ranks of those professors who speak loudly and give 
largely, while they betray the absence of all genuine joy 
in the Lord, by rushing with avidity into the covetous- 
ness, the ostentation, or the 'frivolous amusements of 
the world. Christ and his joy need no eking out by 
the pleasures of sin and folly. God grant that those 
who have lately sat dovm. at the Lord's table, may be 
from the beginning accustomed to hang upon the Mas- 
ter for their soul's gratification. It is when they go 
away from him that Satan seizes them and vdns them 
to his snare. " If any man love the world, the love of 
the Father is not in him." Cleaving to Christ is re- 
nouncing the world, as our happiness. " These things,'' 
said om^ Lord, about to die, " have I spoken unto you, 
that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy 
might be full," xv. 11. Remark how fulness of joy is 

found in union with Christ. 

f 

This bhss of cleaving to the Lord, in a beheving 
connexion, may be shared by many ; and the disciple 



NEW DISCIPLES ADMOMSHED. 279 

cannot but feel the warm contact of a loving tlu-ong 
pressing with him, shoulder to shoulder, towards the 
heart of Jesus. Such was the tenor of his prayer, 
xvii. 22 : " And the glory which thou gavest me have 
I given them : that they may be one, even as we are 
one, / i/i them and thoio in me, that they may be made 
perfect in one." Look around, then, upon those who 
are with you in Christ, and resolve to know and to re- 
ceive one another in the Lord. 

What has the text yielded us ? What have we 
learned to be meant by cleaving unto Jesus ? That we 
hold fast to his religion, abhorring the thought of apos- 
tasy — that we adhere to him as the Revealer of truth, 
avoiding every heresy and error — ^that we rest upon 
him by faith as our atoning Priest — ^that we kneel to 
him as om- King — ^that we chng to his example — that 
we keep near him as the source of all spiritual, sanctify- 
ing influence — and that we abide in him as our ever- 
lasting portion and ultimate good. 

Beloved friends, who have so recently phghted your 
faith to Christ, can any laboured apphcation be neces- 
sary? You know this Jesus. You have found him, 
or rather he has found you, afar out of the path, perish- 
ing on the wild mountains. He has borne you back to 
the fold, having laid you upon his shoulder. He has 
clasped you in his arms. You are on his bosom, encir- 
cled in his righteousness, held and comforted by his 
Spirit. Can you harbour a thought of escape from 
cords of love ? " Will ye also go away ? " God forbid 1 



280 ^'^'^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 

Be exhorted, " with purpose of heart to cleave unto the 
Lord." It includes your whole duty at the present 
juncture. But for performing it you need that purpose 
of heart, that immovable determination, which can be 
neither turned aside nor rent away. The more you 
ponder on the Christ of the Scriptures, the deeper will 
be your admiration and love, the firmer your resolve to 
be inseparable from your Guide. Yet I behold you in 
weakness and dangers, which, alas, you cannot apprehend 
aright. Ten thousand skeletons along your way, whiten- 
ing your path through the desert, should remind you 
that professing Christians may fall. Your only safety is 
in being always near to Christ. The only power which 
can keep you there is the Holy Spirit of God, who at 
first opened your eyes and conducted you to the Be- 
deemer. Pray that he would take the things of Christ 
and show them unto you. Cry daily to him, that he 
w^ould maintain your union with the Hving head. " Ye 
are complete in him." Every tiling depends on your 
having right views of Jesus ; believing on his name and 
clinging to him for justification ; resorting to him for 
perpetually renewed pardons; and communing with 
him, as the Head of influence and the soul's portion. 
Christless conversions will come to nought. Look to it, 
bretlu-en, that the Lord Jesus holds the royal, supreme 
place in yom^ system and your experience. Account the 
day lost, in which there is no sense of commerce with 
the skies, and tender intercourse with the heavenly 
Bridegroom. He stands at the door and knocks ; he 



y^EW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 281 

is ready to come iii and sup with you. Open tlie door. 
Yield to the divine wooing. Let Christ be all in all. 
Beginning thus, you will assuredly go aright. Lowly 
adherence to the Lord is the very secret of peace, power 
and progress. Never give up your hold ; grasp him, 
keep him, chng to him, abide in him, hve and die for 
him. " For ye are the temple of the living God ; as 
God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in 
them, and I will be theii' God and they shall be my 
people." 



XIII. 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR * 



1 John iv. 18. 



" There is no fear in love ; but perfect love casteth out fear : because 
fear hath torment." 

" The fear of the Lord is clean/' says David, " en- 
during forever;'" yet here we learn that fear is cast out. 
Again it is said, " The fear of the Lord is strong confi- 
dence ;" " be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day 
long ;" and " Happy is the man that feareth alway." 
Surely, we may conclude, this is not the kind of fear 
which is to be cast out ; but some other, which is nei- 
ther profitable to us nor pleasing to God. And such a 
fear there undoubtedly is, as we shall presently see, 
when we turn our attention to the point more closely. 
All these commendatory expressions bestowed on Eear, 
relate to godly fear, which is only another name for 

* New York, June. 1848. 



286 I'O^E CASTING OUT FEAR. 

true religion. In the Old Testament, particularly, as 
you must have observed, piety is frequently named the 
Pear of the Lord ; perhaps as frequently as in the New 
Testament it is named Love. Not that either is pecu- 
Har to these parts of Scriptm-e respectively ; but beyond 
a question, good men are oftenest spoken of in the Old 
Testament as fearing, and in the New Testament as 
loving. Indeed our blessed Creator chose to reveal 
himself in that earher day amidst more clouds, more 
through the smoke of altars, more in judgments, more 
from Sinai, more as the God of holiness and wrath ; 
and to delay that more inviting radiance of his compas- 
sion, in which we are privileged to rejoice. Good men 
loved him then, and good men fear him now ; but Old 
Testament love was much hke fear, and New Testament 
fear is much like love. Abraham and Moses tremble 
while they draw near in filial belief; but John, while 
he reverences, rests upon the very bosom of his God. 
We may be assm^ed, however, I repeat it, that the awe- 
ful reverence which was felt by patriarchs and prophets, 
and even by the seraphim who veil their faces, shall 
never be cast out, even by the perfect love of heaven. 
In this sense we cannot fear too much, and perfect fear 
of this kind does not cast out love, nor in the slightest 
degree impair it. We have therefore still to inquire 
what this fear is, which is mentioned in the text. 

Looking attentively at the passage, in its connexion, 
the best key to sound exposition, you will perceive that 
this fear stands opposed to terror in the last day : v. 16, 



LOYE CASTING OUT FEAR. 287 

" herein is oui- love made perfect, that we may have 
boldness in the day of judgment." Fear in the day of 
judgment, my unpardoned friend and brother, is a 
dreadful fear ; a fear which you ought to consider ; a 
fear which you ought to cast out ; a fear which you are 
begmning to experience at times, and which may come 
upon you amidst your dying agonies. God deliver you 
and me from the fear of the Day of Judgment ! You 
will fm'ther perceive that this fear stands opposed to 
peace of mind and all pleasm^e : " because fear hath tor- 
ment." The original word is used in only one other 
place of the New Testament, and means punishment. 
There maybe some allusion to future woe, or retributive 
pain ; but we need not alter our text : the fear we are 
inquiring about liath torment. It is not a sluggish or a 
trifling, but a tormenting fear, which is to be cast out. 
This great and distressing apprehension therefore, Avhich 
true love expels, is what we must for a little while sub- 
mit to a thoughtful examination. 

I. Pear, my brethren, even about minor things, is 
not a pleasing emotion. In ah its forms and in every 
degree, it belongs to those states of soul which we would 
gladly avoid. Yet to be altogether mthout it is to be 
either far more, or far less than man. In our present 
condition it is necessary to fear. The passion would 
indeed be unreasonable, useless and absm^d, if we were 
in no danger. But the tiTith is, we are in perpetual 
danger. From the moment that the babe asserts its 
vitahty by a first exclamation, till the closing gasp, we 



288 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 

are in peril. The apprehension of evils is an instinct 
or constitutional propensity which we have in common 
with the lower tribes. By this we are enabled to shun 
a thousand evils into which we should otherwise fall to 
oiu* destruction. It is temerity or foolhardiness not to 
fear. It is neither unreasonable nor unmanly to fear 
real danger. The child, the drunkard, the madman or 
the idiot, is exempt from apprehension, in circumstances 
where an Achilles or a Wellington would feel the 
wholesome alarm. The pilot who should laugh at 
the dangers of a passage and go on rocks ; the house- 
holder who should he still in a conflagration ; or the 
traveller who should descend into an active volcano, 
might purchase the fame of fearlessness, but would die 
as the fool dieth. The unmanly dread is that which 
unfits for action, and which increases the danger. Still, 
the fears to which man is perpetually subject show that 
he is no longer in a perfect state. Pear, look at it as 
we may, is a shadow cast over the human path by sin. 
It tells of danger ; and danger whispers of penalty. 
" Pear hath torment." 

Other emotions or passions carry some degree of 
pleasme : fear carries none. No man elects it. Every 
man would gladly be rid of it. To escape it is to avoid 
an enemy. Whatever may be the object dreaded, the 
emotion, even when salutary, is distressing. So far 
however from being salutary, in most instances, it is en- 
feebling and disastrous. We fear a thousand enemies 
that never come in sight, and ten thousand that never 



LOYE CASTING OUT FEAR. 289 

had a being. We are ingeniously inventive in our 
fears ; conjuring up phantoms, and adding to the ap- 
prehensions of to-day the wilder apprehensions of to- 
morrow ; alarmed for om^selves, and alarmed for others ; 
trembhng while it is well with us, lest it should not 
abide so ; and while it is ill with us, lest it should 
grow worse. Single instances of fear, constantly re- 
peated, produce a fearing habit, till sometimes the 
wretched soul can do little else than fear. Such is the 
case of many, whose natural disposition this way is iq- 
creased by misfortune, by disease, by age, by melan- 
choly, by superstition, and by a sore and evil con- 
science. For this is the true ghost, that haunts the 
chamber and draws the curtain of the timorous. 

Thus far we have viewed fear, as respecting the or- 
dinary evils and threatenings of common life ; its pains, 
losses, and disgraces. You, my hearers, best know, 
whether you have ever feared ; what it was that you 
were afraid of ; and what it was that gave pungency to 
the trial. 

II. But there is one object which is more particularly 
formidable, and the very naming of which causes a chill 
of dread to run down your body ; it also never fails to 
bring up some thought of sin and penalty. It is so 
terrible, that I seem to behold the entire human race, 
for six thousand years, at their utmost stretch of exer- 
tion flying from it ; yet so certain, that of all these un- 
numbered tremblers only two are known to have es- 
caped. Death is the king of terrors. Hence when 
19 



290 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 

Jesus, death's conqueror, subjects himself to the great 
enemy, this is one of the reasons given for that unpar- 
alleled submission, " that through death he might de- 
stroy him that had the power of death, that is, the 
devil, and dehver them, who, through fear of deat/ijWere 
all their lifetime subject to bondage." This is dehver- 
ance indeed ; and from bondage. All other fears, short 
of eternity, are nothing to this. It has prompted men, 
in instances innumerable, to exertions which had been 
otherwise impossible. It is true of natural men, who- 
ever said it, that " skin for skin, all that a man hath will 
he give for his life." Hence the power of rehgion 
shines resplendent, when men " hate their own hves ;" 
" love not their hves unto the death ;" and choose mar- 
tyrdom for Christ's sake. Even for worldly objects, 
however, men have been found willing to sacrifice life ; 
but no motives have so remarkably taken away this 
dread of death, as Christian faith. The dread may be 
detected by you, in your own hearts, on a little inspec- 
tion. 

HI. All this, however, Christian brethren, fails to 
conduct us to the full meaning of our text. This is not 
all the fear that is to be cast out ; even including death, 
as we have just done ; unless — mark the words — we 
further include that for which death is feared. Could 
we die as infants die : with no forebodings ; with no 
accompanying tempter down the vaUey to the irrevoca- 
ble gate ; with no subsequent anguish ; death would be 
reduced to the bare endurance of a bodily pang ; often 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 291 

greater in appearance than reality, and not more than 
you or I perhaps have suffered abeady. You do not 
need me to inform you what " makes cowards of us 
all." There is a reckoning after death. Were you en- 
sured, in regard to that, your chief terrors would be 
quieted ; and though for many lesser reasons you might 
indeed desire to Hve, yet, heaven being certain, you 
would feel instantly relieved from that mountain fear 
under which you are now crushed. Witness, con- 
science, that our master-dread is of eternal retribution ! 
What else is the meaning of our apostle, when he says, 
" Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have 
boldness in the day of judgment ! '' Do not our fears 
run on before as if hastening to that day ? and will 
they not in that day, from such as know not this bold- 
ness, extort cries, vain cries, for the protection of rocks 
and mountains ? How vain a covert " from the face of 
Him that sitteth on the throne, and from the -wrath of 
the Lamb ! " 

It is remarkable how extensive has been the preva- 
lence of such terrors among mankind. Account for it 
as we may, a large part of the human race have had 
them. Christianity does not cause them. They pre- 
vail where the name of Christ was never heard. They 
are cries from the deep, dark recesses of human nature, 
shuddering before the divine retributions. They come 
to us from the shades of ancient mythology, echoing 
the names of Rhadamanthus, Tartarus, and Phlegethon. 
They are repeated in the burnings, mutilations, self- 



292 LOTH CASTING OUT FEAR. 

tortures, and human sacrifices of all generations. Feai' 
of the wrath to come has reared its mpiads of altars. 
Explain it as we may, the fact is undeniable. There is 
a profound sensibihty on this subject, natural to man- 
kind. "We doubt not it is a principle left standing, 
even among heathen, as a stock on which to engraft the 
true religion. Could we know the whole reahty, we 
should be amazed to learn how imiversal such appre- 
hensions have been, even among the most barbarous 
nations. 

Under the fuller hs^ht of revelation, we find m-eat 
fears anions: men, in re2:ard to their condition in the 
other world. So widely are these anxieties scattered, 
that a principal employment of false teachers is to do 
them away. Once comince a man that you possess a 
secret means of removing liis fear of eternity, and you 
make him yoiu friend. You have touched the point of 
exquisite sensibihty. Only relieve him there, and you 
have destroyed his chief eijemy. Hence, just as men 
are daily the prey of empirics and charlatans in physic, 
from their thirst for dainty methods of cure, so they fall 
readily into the snares of deceivers in religion, fi'om 
their anxiety to be secure in conscience. Otherr^ise, 
how could we account for the large reception, by whole 
nations, of that stupendous impostiue of sacerdotal ab- 
solution, the unction and the viaticum ? as though any 
ceremonial whatever could reach the spirit or prepare 
it for judgment. Or how account for that other delu- 
sion, whereby people, with the very words of Christ in 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 293 

their hands, set up so-called churches, to persuade men 
that God means to break his word, and that the wicked 
shall escape all punishment. These and the Hke errors 
invite the souls of men, eager to escape from a dreadful 
horror of judgment. You may readily convince your- 
self how much this has to do with your anxieties, if you 
will only imagine your hour of dying to* have come ; if 
you will only present to your view the bar of Christ ; 
and if you will only calculate the amount of rehef, which 
would be afforded by the certainty of acceptance at his 
hands. 

IV. These are indeed the chief manifestations of 
that which alarms us ; but Fear has a wider domain 
and a more magnificent object. Even Death and Judg- 
ment, awful as they are, derive all their terrors from a 
greater fear ; they are only expressions of the Wrath 
OF God. This wrath it is which is enkindled by our 
sin, and which like an infinite fire inflames the rage of 
Tophet. When we trace up our fears to their princi- 
ple, we find them fixing on one august but dread ob- 
ject, — ^the Lord God Almighty, considered as a God of 
infinite holiness and infinite justice. " God is angry 
with the wicked, every day." It is not more clearly 
revealed that there is a God, or that there is a Christ, 
than that the Justice of Jehovah goes forth toward the 
destruction of the guilty. Is it not so ? Does not the 
voice within you, my hearers, testify to the justice of 
such fears? " If all in this assembly were to rise, one 
after another, in answer to the question. Art thou pre- 



294 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 

pared to die ? it is not likely that the majority would re- 
ply with that firmness which marks a thorough assur- 
ance. Vague hopes ; inconsiderate confidence ; at best 
unfomided reasons ; these are what we should find in 
most. Over us all there hangs, from time to time, a 
heavy cloud, betokening the anger of God, and his infi- 
nite opposition to sin. We may not always have the object 
precisely before our thoughts, as a definite point in the- 
ology ; but we are not at ease ; we lack something to 
constitute peace; we feel that God is offended; we 
dare not meet him. And what is this, dear brethren, 
but the inward ^ntness of conscience ? Tor what pur- 
pose has God placed this detective spy within us, but 
to give warning of this very thing ? These apprehen- 
sions may vary, but they are in kind the same. What 
is all this but fear of God's justice ? Not, I beseech 
you to observe, that holy fear of God, with which we 
began, and which 'vvill abide in heaven ; but the dis- 
tress of a consciously sinful soul in God's presence. 
Ah ! it is the rankhng of this arrow, barbed and poi- 
soned, deep and inextricable. Many a one there is, in 
Christian assembhes, who goes and comes for years, 
carrying this hidden wound in the bosom. More suffer 
thus than the world suspects. On this trouble, neigh- 
bour does not talk with neighbour. Often it is hidden 
from wife and children. Yet there it is, a wounded 
spirit ; a conscience unreconciled with God. Un- 
der this head therefore we must include, in their infi- 
nite diversity, all the painful apprehensions which men 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 295 

have, through all their Hves, in regard to their failures 
to please God, and their sense of his displeasure. These 
fears he in ambush to come upon us in chosen mo- 
ments. They "bide their time." Just as a malignant 
and perfidious enemy will sometimes wait till his victim 
is feeble, or sohtary, or in darkness, and then waylay 
him, dart upon him, and inflict the fatal blow ; so these 
fears (which are in abeyance, and let a man alone in times 
of health and wealth, of youth and prosperity) gather 
around him when he is in illness, in despondency, in 
bereavement, in poverty, and in declining years. When 
you shall be in your chief worldly troubles, then I fore- 
warn you, expect your chief spiritual troubles. If you 
have neglected God in your summer-days, look for as- 
saults of your adversary when trials begin to thicken. 
Would to God, I could duly impress on men of busi- 
ness and of health, the ruinous game they are playing 
with their immortal souls, by procrastinating this grand 
settlement to days of debihty, pain and despondence ; 
to days, alas! that may bring no opportunity of 
thought. 

V. A clearer view of this fear would be obtained, if 
we could see it in one of its great critical moments, 
such as the time of conviction of sin. This is a crisis 
in the disease of fear. It is not different from all the 
rest ; but now the apprehension has risen high, and re- 
ceives that last drop which makes it run over the brim. 
God is the same ; the danger is the same ; it is the soul 
that is different. Its gaze is fixed inward on itself. 



296 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAK. 

David's word comes true, My sin is ever before me. 
All other thoughts are absorbed. Instead of this or 
that blemish, like a single drop of blood, behold ! all 
has become one gory vision of crimson and scarlet ! 
There is neither sleep nor nourishment. No sorrow is 
like this sorrow, where deep. You know not what you 
are preparing for yourself, by neglecting repentance. 
This is a condensation of many fears into one, before 
which the stoutest minds have been appalled. Now, the 
apprehension of God's judgment rises to an acme, and 
the soul is in a paroxysm which it cannot long endure. 
If it continued, it might imsettle reason. But no au- 
thentic case is on record, or known to us, of any in- 
stance in which simple sorrow for sin, however poig- 
nant, has resulted in alienation of mind. 

VI. By which we may be led to tmn aside for a few 
moments to consider an injurious objection. We often 
hear it said that persons are driven to madness by 
thinking of their sins ; or that religion has crazed them ; 
and even in some instances that they have been urged 
to suicide. Now I dare not undertake to say how far 
a man who has obstinately rejected the offer of salvation 
may be left of God, even in this world : but after many 
opportunities of intimate acquaintance with cases of 
what is called religions melancholy, I can solemnly de- 
clare my absolute conviction, that the phrase, in its 
common acceptation, is used in misapprehension. Such 
melancholy is not religious, in any such sense as that it 
is caused by religion. It is undoubtedly true, that 



LOYE CASTING OUT FEAR. £97 

persons are found in a state of deep melancholy and 
even insanity, whose thoughts run perpetually on re- 
ligion. It would be wonderful if it were otherwise. 
AU unsound minds seize on topics of high interest. 
Religion affords such topics. Just as the disturbed 
mind fixes on property, family connexions or ambition, 
so on religion. And this without its being true that 
rehgion, or even its abuses, caused the ahenation. We 
have therefore known the same individual agonized to- 
day about the salvation of his soul, and to-morrow about 
remedies for his body ; insanely in both casQS. Yet 
neither rehgion nor medicine was chargeable with his 
aberration. The case of Cowper, the poet, has often 
been cited against us ; but truly stated, it is wholly and 
powerfully on our side. There never was, indeed, a 
case more striking of what is called religious melancholy. 
The gloom was black ; the fear was desperate. Yet, to 
charge this to religion, is grossly unphilosophical as well 
as unjust. Long before Cowper's religious experience 
began, he evinced so marked a tendency to madness, 
that, as is well known, he made an attempt on his own 
life. When afterwards he attained to evangelical views 
of truth, he received from them his first balm and con- 
solation. From religion he received nothing but good. 
If, afterwards, he relapsed into a sullen, impenetrable 
gloom, it is no more than is usual in such cases. To 
all sympathizing friends, instances of this kind are most 
trying ; but they belong more to the physician than the 
pastor. Reasoning and instruction are for the most 



298 1^0 VE CASTING OUT FEAR. 

part thrown away on tliem. We must commit them 
to God, in the use of those physical and moral means 
which experience has shown to minister to a mind dis- 
eased. My apology for this digression must be the 
importance of right ideas on this grave subject, and the 
fact that its distresses usually take the form of exag- 
gerated fear."^ 

VII. Let it never be forgotten, that much as we 
may boast of our reason, our mental discipline, and our 
self-control, there is nothing at times more beyond our 
command, than our own thoughts and passions. How 
much are we at the mercy of God, herein ! Who has 
not known the time when he would have given half his 
worldly goods to be exempt from one importunate sug- 
gestion or harrowing image ? Dreadful apprehensions 
of God's anger, whether well or ill founded, are among 
the most intolerable of aU our states of mind. The 
citadel itself is assaulted. The supporting power itself 
cries for support. " The spirit of a man will sustain 
his infirmity ; but a wounded spirit who can bear ! " 
It affords a powerful argument against a life of sin, 
that the habits of mind engendered and fostered by 
such a life, are opposed to self-control, and promotive 
of self-afflicting cares and misgivings. 

VIII. Taking the highest and most general view of 
our subject, the person supposed lives in slavish fear 

* Upon this greatly abused topic, and on kindred distresses, I 
recommend a small but valuable treatise of my esteemed friend, the 
Eev. Joseph H. Jones, D. D. 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. £99 

OF God. Now what condition of a human soul can be 
thought of, more unnatural or more destructive than to 
live perpetually in panic with respect to its Creator, its 
Portion, its Saviour, than to hate the thought of the 
Greatest, Best, and Lovehest ! What more hopeless, 
than to shrink with horror from the comitenance that is 
always turned on us, and be impatient of the searching 
eye which we can never escape! This is what im- 
penitent men are preparing for themselves in greater 
measure than they have yet experienced. Even now 
they sometimes shake with terror, or avoid it only by a 
violent force put upon the thoughts ; but the great 
mystery of fear is yet to be revealed to them. 

IX. Even children of grace, in their less favoured 
hours, in times of temptation, and sometimes at inter- 
vals, aU their hves long, are troubled with doubts and 
terrors. They fear to die. They stiU more fear the 
Judgment. If on certain rare occasions, the darkness 
is broken, and the behever, trembhng, says, " Lord, 
thou knowest aU things, thou knowest that I love 
thee ! " this twiakling star, just above the horizon, soon 
sets, and all is obscurity. Ear be it from us to measure 
grace by sensible joys, or to say that doubting Chris- 
tians have no faith. Much more true is it, that pre- 
sumptuous, undoubting vaunters of their own cloudless 
skies and Pharisaic assurance are in danger of surprise 
and overthrow. We believe holy souls may be in fear ; 
but we also believe that their fears have no part in their 
holiness. " There is no fear in love ; " as our text de- 



300 ^^^'^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 

clares. There is no happiness in fear, " because fear 
hath torment." We should all endeavour to rise as 
speedily as possible out of this region of mists and 
clouds. A life which has to be largely spent in discus- 
sions of the question whether we are in the path or not, 
is every way inferior to a life of going forward in the 
way. The degrees of fear vary ; but all " fear hath 
torment." The head cannot be erect, as should be that 
of a king's son. There cannot be the higher attain- 
ments in piety. The more generous and stimulating 
motives are absent. " The joy of the Lord is your 
strength." Perpetual fearfulness is as bad in rehgion 
as in the world. It writes a signature of gloom on the 
countenance, which discredits religion and deters com- 
panions. Heroic Christianity, noble daring, champion- 
ship for truth and humanity, call for Hveher hopes and 
unwavering confidence. Hence aU who profess to fol- 
low Christ, should listen with a wistful expectation to 
every proposal of means for casting out this fear. 

X. Before lea\ing this branch of the subject, let 
your minds dwell a httle on the condition of those who 
are justly exposed to the perpetuity of these fears. 
Their conscience, if not seared, is a daily suggester of 
evil forebodings. They are wrong, and they know it. 
The thought of guilt is the thought of punishment. 
This servile dread, though well-founded, has no virtue 
in it. Were it increased ever so much, it would only 
be more hke the state of evil angels, who " beheve and 
tremble." Their anguish at God's justice is mingled 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3QI 

with no evangelical sorrow for sin : it does not make 
them love God any more. Nay, it is generally mixed 
with some repining and rebellion. It prompts the 
question, " Why hast thou made me thus ? " It drives 
away from God, and thoughts of God. Let this con- 
tiQue, and it frequently issues in the most vehement 
opposition to divine things. 

If, my dear hearer, you are conscious of no filial at- 
tachment to God ; if the thought of God gives you 
trouble, or exasperates the pang of conscience ; if the 
law is terrible, and the Gospel a dead letter ; if you 
stiU labour for the meat that perisheth, and still forsake 
your own mercies ; then, of a truth, you need no 
preacher to tell you that " fear hath torment." But 
this is a state which admits of degrees. You suffer 
more, it may be, than you once did. Who knows but 
you may go on to greater suffering ? It wiU, indeed, 
be yom- own choosing of death rather than life ; but 
the thing is possible. I have no promise from this 
book, to assure you that you shall not reap as you have 
sowed. There is nothing in philosophy or scripture to 
demonstrate that the fear of to-day may not ripen into 
the greater fear of to-morrow ; or that the passions and 
torment of an evil nature here may not be carried for- 
ward and developed in another state. If death were 
the certain antidote of pain and fear, why then, my 
brethren, the suicide would be the wise man, and the 
Iscariot who went to his own place, only leaped more 
boldly and rapidly to that heaven, for which his brother 



302 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 

apostles toiled through sorrows and blood. But no ! 
you "will be the same persons beyond death. What 
solemn object is that, which yonder rises out of the 
ocean, among mists, on the further side of dissolution ! 
Wliat throne and tribunal emerges from that expanse 
of indistinct futurity ! " It is appointed unto men once 
to die . . . but after this ... the Judgment." Are 
you athirst for salvation ? Behold, it is ready for you, 
and you may drink " of the fountain of the water of 
life freely." But take care how you flatter yourself, 
that as a matter of course all fear shall be left behind 
you when you die. "The fearful," I say, "the fear- 
ful" are specially noted, Bev. xxi. 8, with the unbe- 
lieving and the abominable, as having " their part in 
the lake of fire." Pear is an ingredient in their cup. 
" Pear hath torment." 

Ail which is presented to you, not to sink you in 
despair, but, on the contrary, to show you the gulf from 
which true rehgion stands ready to dehver you. If 
" fear hath torment," which cannot be denied, yet " per- 
fect love casteth out fear ;" which is the second topic 
awaiting your consideration. 

XI. That the Love here spoken of is love towards 
God, admits of no reasonable doubt. The whole con- 
text shows it. Immediately before, he has been men- 
tioning fear — fear of God. Immediately after, he gives 
this ground of the love intended : " We love him, be- 
cause he first loved us." It is true, v. 20, in a follow- 
ing verse he speaks of love toward brethren ; but he 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 



303 



speaks of this as a consequence and evidence of love to 
God. 

The Love of God in a large sense, is the whole of 
rehgion and the fulfiUing of the law. All the second 
table results from the first. " Every one that loveth 
him that begat, loveth him that is begotten of him." 
Love is a familiar passion. It is no part of om^ plan 
to treat of its varieties. No agent is more mighty. 
Among all nations, in all ages, it is an element of incal- 
culable moment in the problems of history. It is the 
moral cement of the universe. Just so much order, 
harmony, and union are there in the world, as there is 
love. It is a self-manifesting principle. We hnow 
when we love. It is a hvely, operative prmciple, break- 
ing forth into acts, services, and sacrifices. This is true 
even of that common terrestrial love which exists be- 
tween parents and children, friend and friend. It is 
the same affection in kind, when we rise towards God. 
The subject is the same ; it is the same human spirit 
which loves. The object is varied ; for it is God who 
is loved ; and the degree admits of indefinite enlarge- 
ment. 

Yet, when we come to consider this holy passion of 
the soul, we must not fail to take into view one impor- 
tant trait of it, which is, that it is love toioard a perfect 
and infinite Being, I fear this is not enough consider- 
ed. There are peculiarities of all love towards a supe- 
rior. The mother loves her babe ; the good master his 
servant ; the teacher his scholar ; the guardian his ward ; 



304 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 

the commander his soldier. Brother and sister, hus- 
band and wife, companion and companion, between 
these there are strong affections ; but they flow to- 
wards inferiors or equals. The regard for a superior is 
something difierent. Consider the love of one whose 
life has been saved by his Sovereign. Ascend a little 
towards the love of a disciple for his master ; you are 
here only beginning, at an infinite remove, to tread the 
path upward to the love of God. Love toward one far 
above us is a love tempered with veneration and awe ; 
and, as was said before, this kind of fear is not to be 
cast out. The soul bows and sinks, as wondering how 
it dares to love. The supreme excellence, which fixes 
the eye and fills the circuit of vision, and is known to 
fill the universal sphere of all vision of all united intel- 
Hgences, the Lord Almighty, fountain and sum of all 
glories and all beauties, is a sun too dazzhng to be 
gazed on with careless eye. Of all human affections, 
there is none more solemn. Words fail ; often external 
acts of worship fail. AVhen the prayer of God's house 
is most lifted up, and the spirit of worshippers most at- 
tuned ; when the chorus of the great congregation is 
fullest, and the swell of a multitude of voices most em- 
ulates the choir of heaven ; even these expressions fail, 
and the loving heart is conscious of an emotion which 
rises and soars beyond them all, till it despairs of utter- 
ance, and sits down to say, " Come then, expressive 
silence, muse his praise ! " The fearfulness of a soul 
flying to God in praise, is the trembling of a dove that 



LOYE CASTING OUT FEAK. 395 

closes its pinions to sink into the nest. " Return unto 
tliy rest my soul." It is an awful sweetness ; tlie 
cloud of frankincense amidst wliicli the worshipper lifts 
the vail and enters into the holy-of-holies. There is a 
perfect consistency between the reverence and the love. 
The greater the awe, the greater the happiness. Be- 
yond a doubt, the hallowed stillness and adoring fear 
of heaven is more deep and awful than even the joy of 
death. 

What on earth is more solemn than a believer^s 
death ? Yet what is more joyful ? The love, then, of 
a soul toward God, is a love of what is superior, yea, 
supreme. It finds its object at the utmost reach of its 
ascending faculties ; it descries that object as infinite, 
and beholds it evermore transcending all limits of com- 
prehension, and evermore flying from the approach of 
finite powers. The soul despairs of perfectly embrac- 
ing ; and yet it loves ! Not one pang of this exquisite 
delight, this dread enjoyment, would it give away ; 
though it knows that if God should withhold his sus- 
taining hand, or open more fully the tide of influence 
into the frail vessel, the soul would fain die under it. It 
may be that some of those deep sleeps, mentioned in the 
Scriptures, were compassionately afforded as refuges for 
sinking nature, under the excess of divine manifesta- 
tions. Such was the slumber on the mount of trans- 
figuration. The love of God, as our infinite superior, 
has therefore a sacredness and a sublimity which fully 
redeem it from all the trivial belongings of natural af- 
20 



306 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 

fection. It is a love to all God's perfections, so far as 
revealed ; for, doubtless, God has unrevealed perfec- 
tions, and fields of glory in the immensity of his natiu-e, 
which no faculties of ours can comprehend ; hues of 
beauty to which our sense is blind, and harmonies of 
wisdom and hohness to which our ear is deaf. But 
what is revealed is all the object of om^ love, and this 
love is the principal thing in religion. He that truly 
loves God is a redeemed soul and true Christian ; he 
who loves him not, is yet in his sins. 

XII. Some sincere persons have been much troubled 
because the text speaks of perfect love. They know 
that if they have any love whatever, it is far from being 
perfect ; and that they have never seen evidence of sin- 
less perfection in any ; least of all, in those who claim 
it for themselves. How then can our fears, say they, 
ever be cast out ? If we wait for sinless love, we must 
wait for heaven. Our love is so faint, so far from what 
it ought to be and from what our God deserves ; so 
blemished by selfishness, pride, and passion ; so inter- 
rupted by rival afiections ; so pulled down earthward 
by sloth and carnality; so overhung by unbelief; that 
never, never, even for a single hour, could we pretend 
to plead such affection as perfect love. Let me reply, 
for this is a hinderance which must be removed out of 
the way. The apostle does not say that every measure 
of sincere Christian love casts out every measure of 
fear. This were to condemn and strike from the Hst 
aU doubting disciples; a proposal sometimes made 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 397 

by zealots and fanatics, but whicli we have repudiated 
under a former head. There is not a man that hveth 
and sinneth not ; there is not a loving soul that does 
not sometimes fear. And " he that feareth is not made 
perfect in love.'' It is perfect love that casteth out all 
fear ; every the least degree of it. Even then on the 
extreme supposition that the apostle means by this word 
a love that is uninterrupted and sinless, he asserts this, 
and this only, to wit, that love and fear are so opposed, 
that the perfect and absolute prevalence of one excludes 
the other ; and further, that where the reign of love is 
complete, as we know, for example, it is in heaven, 
there is no fear ; and still further, that in proportion 
to the increase of love will be the decrease of fear. 
The nearer you approach to perfect love, the nearer to 
perfect fearlessness, that is to heaven. This, I say,- is 
the apostle's meaning, even on the supposition, that by 
the word " perfect " he intends uninterrupted and abso- 
lute sinlessness. 

But there is no need of understanding him to mean 
this. The word " perfect," as none are so fully con- 
vinced as the most diligent and learned students of 
the original, has several significations. It is applied to 
Job, who sinned egregiously ; and to any thorough 
Christian, as, 1 Cor. ii. 6 ; Phil. iii. 15 ; Col. iv. 12. 
It is applied to that which is symmetrical, not wanting 
its essential parts, sincere and genuine, even though not 
sinless, and though not consummate in its degree. It 
imquestionably here poiats to a high attainment in re- 



308 I^O'^E CASTING OUT FEAK. 

ligion ; no common reach of experience ; one of the 
smnmits in our pilgrimage. And it is no ordinary 
fruit which is here propounded, the casting out of fear 
— of that fear which occupied our painful attention 
just now. If, brethren, you would be delivered from 
such an enemy, know ye, that it is by no every-day at- 
tainment in grace. It is a measure of attainable love 
which is held out to us as a sweet resting-place in the 
jom^ney up these mountains ; but we are not to be de- 
terred from seeking it, by the assurance that angehc, 
heavenly, sinless perfection, is impracticable on earth. 
So much it seemed necessary to say, concerning this 
love as perfect. It is then the holy, sincere affection of 
a renewed soul towards God, so exalted by divine grace 
enlarging the experience, as to remove servile and tor- 
menting dread. 

XIII . Having now considered what this love is (the 
subject of the apostle's proposition), let us consider its 
operation, i. e. how it casts out fear. 1. Perfect love 
casts out fear, because it is founded on just views of 
God. No unconverted person has just views of God. 
If he knew God, he would be saved. '' This is eternal 
Hfe, to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, 
whom thou hast sent." No person, under the anguish 
of an alienated mind, under pangs of conscience and 
dead works, under legal horrors, under self-condemn- 
ing lashes of remorse, has just views of God. All 
slavish fear regards God in a distorted manner. It 
may not overrate his Justice or his Wrath, but it 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 



309 



amazingly underrates his Mercy and his grace. " God 
is love ;" and the sight of this is connected with all true 
believing. To see God, is to see his love. To see the 
Gospel, is to see its grace. It is believing. Faith is a 
reception of God's character, as a God of infinite grace 
and mercy. Even true Christians, in those hours when 
they have servile fears and are tormented about their 
future destiny, are guilty of lapses in their faith ; they 
cease to believe in some respects ; they lose their hold 
in part on some divine truth ; they look at their Re- 
deemer under false lights ; in a word, they have not 
just views of God. 

Do not misunderstand me, as if I made love the source 
of faith. Some have so taught ; but in so doing, have 
made a preposterous derangement of cause and effect. 
We freely own, that between the affections and the un- 
derstanding, as also between love and faith, there is a 
reciprocity of action. He who loves most, will be most 
able and ready to believe. If any man do Christ's wiU, 
he shall know of the doctrine. Right affections tend to 
clear vision. " The pure in heart shaU see God." This 
is undeniable ; but this is not what we mean at present. 
Faith precedes love. We must perceive the amiable 
qualities of divinity before we love them. It is the 
order of nature and the order of grace. But when that 
regenerating word is spoken, whereby the dead soul 
awakes, and the bhnd soul is enhghtened, the same fiat 
that results in just views of God, results in love for 



310 I^OVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 

those august glories which begin to expand before the 
enraptured vision. 

Now, the very views of God's character which pro- 
duce eminent love, do at the same time remove fear. 
You once thought of God as a hard master, an austere 
judge, if not a tyrant. You trembled as the slave at 
the lash. You dared not come to God with any inti- 
macy of approach, not even with filial beseeching. You 
regarded religion as a hard service, however neces- 
sary for escaping from hell ; and conversion as a repul- 
sive humbling process, which you would gladly put off 
as far as possible. You often tried to disabuse yourself 
of your early impressions respecting God, and to make 
him out such a one as yourself : as tolerant of sin and 
as regardless of his word. And, faihng of this, you 
earnestly sought to flee from his presence. If sudden 
danger, or ^dolent illness and possible death, came on 
you, how teiTific and black were all your thoughts of 
God ! You beheld in him every thing rather than the 
Friend and Father; and you were ready to quarrel 
with the system of doctrine which exalts his immaculate 
purity and inflexible justice ; as if by your prejudices 
you could undo the reality of God's attributes. Was 
not this the view you habitually took of God ? It was 
totally false, grossly unjust to your Maker and Re- 
deemer, perverse, absurd, and ungrateful. O, the 
blessed change, when grace opened your eyes ! How 
you looked on God, as on a new discovery. How the 
familiar words, which tell of him in hymns and cate- 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. ^H 

chisms, seemed a fresh revelation. Now you wondered 
how you could ever have had doubts and misgivings 
about him who is the most Blessed and the most Lov- 
ing. You charged your souls with the sin of having 
lived with your chief friend so long, as though he had 
been yom^ chief enemy. New light has broken in on 
your cell. You contemplate Jehovah as the infinitude 
of moral perfection ; you are absorbed in the contem- 
plation ; and OAvn that you were made capable of love 
in order that you might love such a being. 

Now, my brethren, these are just views of God ; 
though infinitely below the truth. And so beholding 
Jehovah, as containing in himself all that is entrancing- 
ly excellent, and all that is boundlessly benevolent, in- 
effably pure and great, and immeasurably communica- 
tive of happiness to his creatures, you found your love 
on a view, which at the very same time forbids you to 
fear. What place is left for servile fear ? If any, it 
must be in some disbelief of such a character in God. 
Admitting this, you cannot but draw nigh. These as- 
pects of the divine nature are attractive. They draw 
the soul in confidence. They command the affections 
in fihal repose. Nothing conceivable can so expel 
doubts and terrors as the true beholding of God as he 
is ; and love and confidence are twin streams which 
perpetually mingle their waters. 

2. Perfect love casts out fear, because it is founded 
on a behef of God's love to us. Consider what is the 
reason of all our rehgious fears. Is it not that we ap- 



312 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 

preliend that God does not love us ? For if he really 
loves us, and intends our salvation, fear on this point is 
shut out ; it were insane to fear. Only acquire the un- 
wavering conviction that God regards you with com- 
passionate kindness, and your dread of all consequences 
vanishes. Just in proportion as you credit this con- 
cerning God, just in proportion as you know him to be 
on your side, will you be raised above fear. Now, my 
brethren, I pray you to perceive, for it is the main dis- 
covery of the New Testament, that the revelation which 
you need to banish your fear, is the very revelation 
which the Gospel was sent to make. The Gospel is 
none other than a declaration of God's stupendous 
method of saving sinners. The belief of the Gospel is 
belief of this ; it is belief that God is your friend. It 
is a looking out of the soul upon God as a God of love, 
giving himself to us as a Saviour. And it is this view 
of God and tliis behef of the Gospel which is the cause 
of that love which casteth out fear. Do you doubt 
this ? Just caU to mind those portions of your expe- 
rience which comcide with the matter in hand. Recol- 
lect what change of views made a change of affections ; 
what it was that melted you into love. Was it not 
your sudden apprehension of the truth that, notwith- 
standing all your sins, God loved you? Was it 
not your coming all at once to recognise the neglected 
truth, that even your greatest transgressions could not 
keep you from the enjoyment of God's compassion, if 
you would but accept it in the Gospel ? And is not 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 33^3 

this just what the apostle says? v. 14 : " And we' have 
seen and do testify, that the Father sent the Son to be 
the Saviour of the world." v. 16 : "And we have known 
and beheved the love that God hath to zis!' Mark, my 
brethren, what it is that we have known and beheved. 
" God is Love : and he that dweUeth in love dwelleth in 
God, and God in him." There is no fear in love. " We 
love liim because he first loved us." Here we have 
arrived at the sacred fount of love to God. It flows 
from a behef of God's love to us. " We love him be- 
cause he first loved us." Some interpreters, I know, 
in order to hold up a metaphysical scheme of disinter- 
ested benevolence as the sole essence of virtue, would 
explain this verse to mean only that unless God had 
loved us first, we never should have loved him : they 
deny that our view of his love to us is a source of our 
love to him ; they exclude aU love of gratitude, as self- 
ish. They might as weU exclude all human natm^e, or 
aU the gush of blood from these hearts. Every true 
convert, unspoiled by inventions of sophistry, feels 
the warm current of his soul going forth in love to 
God, for this very reason, and undert his very motive, 
that God has loved him. It is true, we love God for 
what he is in himself. But the greatest, most intelli- 
gible, and most affecting view of what God is in him- 
self, is the view of lohat he is to us, of his unspeakable 
love in redemption. And no man ever so loves as when 
he beholds this love of God to himseK most clearly. 
Brethren, it would be unpardonable in me not to 



314 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 

say, that tlie higliest demonstration of this divine pity 
is in the incarnation and death of Jesus Christ. " The 
Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." 
It is therefore at the foot of the cross that our love is 
most awakened, and that our hearts are melted by the 
blood of Jesus. For the same reason, it is at this cross 
that our fears are most removed. Paith, hope and love 
mingle their tribute just here. Terror cannot abide 
where the Son of the Highest is seen dying for our sins. 
AU the unworthy fears of awakened smners arise from 
their keeping away from the Cross. Bring your hearts 
liither, and your apprehensions mil depart, like birds of 
night at the dawning. 

3. Perfect love casts out fear, because it is of the 
very nature of love to promote confidence. The princi- 
ple is familiar. Select your instances where you please, 
and you shall find this gentle, generous passion always 
trustful. I have heard of jealousy as the offspring of 
love ; I never believed it. This foul spirit comes of 
pride, selfishness and envy. True love rests on the ob- 
ject beloved, with aU the repose of certainty ; eVen in 
human attachments. But when the soul flows forth 
towards infinite perfection and eternal love, it can no 
more suspect than it can hate. The same state of mind 
which looks to God with admiration and gratitude^, 
looks to him with hope. Those fears, which we must 
entertain towards an enemy, or an untried friend, would 
be treacherous towards one who commands our su- 
preme attachment. The more childhke your affection. 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3^5 

the fuller your confidence. The child in the mother's 
arms has its little heart poisoned by no misgivings as 
to the power or will of that mother to do it good. As 
Htfcle can the renewed soul, while in the exercise of love 
to God, harbour any slavish terrors. Let it ascend 
higher in its contemplations of divine excellence, and in 
the flight of its adventurous admiration ; let it expa- 
tiate upon this ocean of magnificent beauty and awful 
grace ; let it become so lost in the abundance of these 
attributes as to forget seK altogether ; let it surrender 
itself a captive, smitten by the celestial fascinations of 
immutable and endless Wisdom, Might, Purity, Recti- 
tude, Truth and Grace ; let it enter into the bleeding 
chamber where these are all blended in the dying Im- 
manuel ; and here, where love is reigning, it will feel 
that Pear is cast out. Hope meanwhile spreads the 
untiring wing, and sets forth upon the eternal flight. 

In tjiese three ways, then, we obsen^e love castmg 
out fear ; as founded on just views of God ; as caused 
by belief of God's love to us ; and as, of its very nature, 
leading to confidence. 

XIV. Now let us hasten towards our close by press- 
ing this, as the grand import of the text : that the more 
love the less fear. If there is no love, then fear is domi- 
nant. If there is little love, there is great fear. If love 
is flickering and inconstant, there is perpetual interrup- 
tion from doubt and terror. If love to God is gaining 
the upper hand, and even by many blows and hard 
conflicts coming to abide in love, then the habit of mis- 



316 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 

giving and apprehension is broken, and, as we often 
observe, even in chambers of illness and old age, the 
expectation of heaven becomes in a measure constant. 
Does not all this reveal a certain line of direction, a ten- 
dency, a rising towards perfection ? If the love could 
at any moment become sinless, and di'op its last weight, 
how joyfully would the soul rise from the realm of 
doubt, and leave all fears forever behiad it ! Brethren, 
it shall so rise ! Presently this mortal shall put on im- 
mortality, and death be swallowed up in victory. Our 
imperfect views of God, even here, are +he chief cor- 
rective of fears ; but " when that which is perfect is 
come, then that which is in part shall be done away." 
Then will be brought to pass the saying, that " perfect 
love casteth out fear." 

There is a practical direction of great importance to 
be derived from the doctrine which has occupied so un- 
usual a portion of our thoughts this day. If you desire 
to be rid of those fears which vex and disturb you, 
seek to abound in the love of God. Give over those 
fruitless endeavours to calm your mind by perpetual 
probing of its wounds, and brooding over its corrup- 
tions. You knock at the wrong door, if you seek the 
cure of fears from law. The Law has no such office. 
The Law^ threatens wrath. The Law condemns and 
slays. The shortest and sm^est way to be bold even 
'^ in the day of judgment," is to " dwell in love." And 
where did the beloved disciple learn this love, but on 
the bosom of Jesus Christ ? One irradiation of love, 



LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. ^itj 

like the roseate tints of evening sky, suffuses this whole 
epistle. These swan-like notes befit the serene old age 
of such an apostle. His great argument even against 
the world is love. " If any man love the world, the 
love of the Father is not in him." " He that loveth 
not, knoweth not God, for God is love." " In this was 
manifested the love of God toward us, because that 
God sent his Only-Begotten Son into the world, that 
we might Hve through him." iv, 9. The lesson is 
learnt of Christ ; and Christ is apprehended by faith. 
All your doubtings wiU give way before just apprehen- 
sions of gospel grace. If you are still harassed, still 
in occasional darkness and tremor, it shows that you 
stiU entertain some erroneous views of Christ and his 
work. Purge out this leaven of the Pharisees. Come 
to the Redeemer for a whole salvation. Add no jot or 
tittle of your own. See the things that are freely given 
you of God. Love him that first loved you, and while 
you sink into his arms, and surrender all to him, with 
a joyful, absolute self-renunciation, let this confiding 
love swell and abound, tiU every figment of distrust 
shall be swept away. Por, against every challenge, in 
time or eternity, this may be your rejoinder : " He that 
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us 
all ; how shall he not, with him, also freely give us aU 
things ! " 



XIV. 

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN 



THE TOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN * 



1 COEINTHIAXS XVi. 13. 

" Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong." 

We live at a time when our ears have again become 
famihar with reports of warfare. It is easy therefore 
for us to imagine a general surveying his forces as they 
disembark from their transports upon a foreign shore. 
If now we should suppose him, as commanders are 
wont to do, about to harangue his troops, what would 
suggest itself as his most welcome mode of address? 
Shall he say to them, " Soldiers, I rejoice to inform you 
that you are about to experience no struggles nor blood- 
shed ; no battle awaits you ; all enemies have vanished 
from the land." Assuredly not, you reply. This were 
to insult their valour and mock their expectations. It is 

* New York, January 28, 1855. 



322 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

for conflict that the soldier girds himself; and especially 
to youthful enterprise and courage there is invitation in 
the sound of the trumpet, and incitement in the call to 
arms. Nor can the Christian combatant go through 
his campaign without hardship and blows. The Apostle 
Paul therefore addresses youtliful Timothy thus : " Thou 
therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus 
Christ ; " or thus : " Fight the good fight of faith, lay 
hold on eternal hfe, whereunto thou art called, and 
hast witnessed a good profession before many wit- 
nesses ; " or thus : " Thou therefore, my son, be strong in 
the grace that is in Clu-ist Jesus." All these are warn- 
ings of that opposition, contest, and difficult struggle 
which fall to the lot of the believer, and for which much 
force of resistance and assault is required. In the text 
this idea is manifestly present, and the Christian war- 
rior is addressed in terms which sound of the camp and 
the army : " AVatch ye," be awake, on your guard ; 
vigilantly looking out for the enemy, armed at every 
point, prepared against every surprise, sensible of your 
danger and your weakness, and forewarned against your 
malignant and insidious enemy. " Stand fast in the 
faith ; " know the truth, believe it, beheve it strongly ; 
chng to it, against all ridicule, loss, and persecution ; 
be firm and constant in adherence to Christ, the great 
object of faith, and source of powder. " Quit you like 
men -, " the result of vigilance and assured faith ; act 
the manly part. Thus Joab said to his party on a 
noted occasion : " Be of good courage, and let us play 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 323 

the men for our people, and for the cities of our God," 
2 Sam. X. 12. Exhibit the high intrepid bearing which 
becomes Christians, acting in the name and for the 
honour of their Redeemer and King. " Be strong ; " 
go out to this warfare with full confidence in divine 
aid ; be strong in the Lord and in the power of his 
might ; be stout-hearted and valiant, and by this be 
successful and victorious. 

The topic seems peculiarly suitable to young Chris- 
tians ; and for their sakes I would deduce from these 
words the value of an earnest, manly and courageous 

CHRISTIANITY. 

As in Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female, 
the subject belongs not only to Christian men but to 
Christian women ; yet as I appear before a society of 
young men, and as in all aggressive movements it is 
they who must take the lead, the remarks which foUow 
shall be directed towards the consideration of this vigor- 
ous rehgion as existing in young men. Reasons will 
appear in the sequel, why we may lawfully single out 
such a portion of the race as that which, speaking in 
general terms, is destined to survive ; and why we are 
justified in still further narrowing the field, by address- 
ing our admonitions primarily to those who profess the 
faith of Christ, as the class contemplated by the text, 
and as that which must be the som'ce of influence to 
its coevals. 

If we might have all wishes in one, we could wish 
nothing better, nothing greater, than that the youth now 



324 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

growing up should be cast into the right mould. A 
present generation, duly trained in boyhood and adoles- 
cence, will make a coming generation of men, (I wish 
our otherwise rich English had tw^o words, as most 
other languages have, to express the thought,) of men, 
who shall stand in the battle. Of poor sauntering 
triflers, in human shape and men's apparel, we have 
enough ; of literary Sybarites, bred on. stories, fugitive 
poetry and monthly magazines; of minute scholars, 
glorying in the niceties of metre and accent, college 
honours, and other tongues ; of dressed creatures that 
sweeten soirees and playhouses with their odours ; of 
things that flutter and die in the light of fashion, as 
moths about a lamp ; of religious professors that almost 
ask leave to ser\^e Christ of the sons of Behal who sur- 
round them ; more than enough have we of such young 
Americans, aping every effete custom and appropriating 
every fungous abuse of the old countries, and spoiled 
tenfold worse by every voyage and travel abroad, so 
that they blush at the marks of an American as much 
as their fathers would have gloried in the same ; more 
than enough of young men whose everlasting discourse 
is of the last amusement or the last scandal. But of 
MEN, spirits in earnest, souls that have an aim, bent to- 
wards some object, and that a great one ; bearing and 
doing, training themselves by toil, by temperance, by 
self-denial, by prayer, for the benefit of the greatest 
number, it must be confessed mth lamentation that we 
have but few. And if, as we suppose, the times which 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 325 

are coming on the eartli will demand such men, strong 
to do and strong to suffer, our only mode of providing 
them is to deal with the young, and to pour the plastic 
masses into the shaping mould. 

Our Saviour long since taught us that the children 
of this world are Aviser in their generation than the 
children of light. Worldly governments, cabinets and 
and war-bureaus are wiser and more provident than 
the church. The great contemporary drama in the 
Crimea teaches us a hundred mighty lessons ; and I 
marvel, that at such a time there should be people empty 
and heartless enough to crave, in vulgar playhouses, the 
excitement or diversion of stale mimicry, mouthed by 
despicable players whom they would refuse admittance 
at their doors, or the provocative displays of semi-nude 
dances, at which a Roman matron would have blushed 
' celestial rosy red ;' at such a time, I say, when great 
tragic actions of real life and real death are held forth 
to view in that more than Trojan peril and endurance 
under the walls of Sebastopol. Go thither, ye poor 
effeminate drawing-room Christians, ye carpet-knights 
of a chivalry whose sword is lath and whose shield is 
pasteboard ; go and learn what men can do and dare, 
when they are warmed by a grand motive. Behold 
them bleeding in the charge, behold them, harder yet, 
languishing to death in the wet and fatal trenches. On 
either side, see the fruits of true manly valour. What 
assault will they not ventm^e, what privation will they 
not endm:e ? " Now they do it to obtain a corruptible 



326 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

crown, but we an incorruptible." Our own American 
youth, we know, would do the hke in any cause which 
interested them, that is, in any earthly cause. In a 
single horn', if our city were invaded, thousands of such 
as hear me would rally to any call of the country ; and 
however unprepared by training, abstinence, and dis- 
cipline, would do their best and die in doing it. But 
still the inquiry returns, why these and similar displays 
of manly virtue and self-sacrifice are so much limited 
to earthly hazards and conflicts? Why should the 
children of this world still put to shame the children of 
light ? "Why do we seldom behold a phalanx of trained 
Christians going forth, stately and irresistible, to the 
help of the Lord against the mighty ? Are there no 
great interests at stake ? Have we nothing as potent 
to stir the blood as the taking of a redoubt or the 
silencing of a battery ? Can the great passions be 
moved only by revenge, bloodshed, crime ? Ah, no, 
my hearers. History can show, even though experience 
should be dumb; history can show that there have 
been days when the Christian host was animated by a 
fire such as never had its equal in conquering armies. 
The principles of the faith have a stimulating and em- 
boldening power, which, as you well know, was in past 
ages irresistible in the view of Gentile and afterwards 
of Antichristian foes. Just recall, for a moment, the 
earliest progress of Christianity, and consider what sort 
of men were engaged in that army. Only close stu- 
dents of church history do justice to the rapidity of this 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 327 

conquest. Prom Jerusalem, Antiocli, Corinth, Alexan- 
dria, and Rome, as bases of operation, the hosts went 
forth almost simultaneously to the frontiers of the known 
world. The celerity of Alexander's famous marches was 
outstripped by Apostles of whom no record exists, who 
carried the cross into realms of whose myriad converts 
no registers remain. There is this in which the sacra- 
mental host differs from other armies ; every soldier 
feels the genuine impulse. The Russian, French, or 
British private, though drilled to a mechanical exactness 
of evolution and practice, and hardened to a bulldog 
ferocity, may partake little individually of those patriotic, 
ambitious or dutiful sentiments which glow in the soul 
of great leaders. But in the church militant every 
missionary and every confessor and every martyr was 
individually able to give a reason of the hope that was 
in him ; and when the Greek slave or the Roman boy 
or the Hebrew maid was brought before proconsuls and 
princes, they were as clear in their testimony of what 
they suffered for, even if not so able to argue on it, as 
a Paul or an Apollos. It will never do to ascribe the 
unmanly supineness and apathy of many Christian 
young men of our times, to any want of animating sen- 
timent in Christianity. 

If the Reformation did no more, it taught us, that 
among the cinders of that old altar there lay coals of 
fire which needed but the stirring and the heavenly 
breath, to make them flame up to heaven. All the 
stories of romance wither and seem insipid when com- 



328 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

pared with Reformation history. You cannot read an 
hour about Luther, Calvin, Zwingle, Melancthon, Knox, 
or Melvill, without feehng that you are communing 
with men. They had something to hve for. They had 
some principles to die for. There were doctrines at 
stake. It is a symptom of the wretched, flaccid, pulse- 
less condition of sundry in our day, that they never 
speak of theology, of catechisms, of doctrinal sermons, 
but with a sneer. The religion which they would like, 
if indeed they have thought enough to know their o^\ti 
mind, would be all sentimentality and all softness. 
Their weakened mental organs reject the strong meat. 
Know ye, my beloved young friends, that manly 
bone, sinew and muscle, do not form themselves on the 
emollient regimen of a Christianity without doctrine. 
The men who of old went to the stake, went for doc- 
trines ; these doctrines they had learnt in the Scriptures, 
elaborated in meditation, methodized in system, preached 
to hstening thousands, digested in the succinct formu- 
las of definition, and left for us, their children, in 
those permanent crystals of the Reformed Catechisms, 
which are scoffed at by amiable wits and rehgious jpetit 
maitres. Men, men, who can stand fast in the faith, 
who can stand alone, who have vertebral columns, who 
can bear, who can forbear, who can advance, who on 
due summons can strike, men armed with the armour 
of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, 
that is, with sword and shield, are bred in great study 
of God's Word, and great famih'arity mth those high 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 329 

evangelic truths whicli are the motive powers of the 
spiritual universe. And this partly answers the ques- 
tion we have raised about the paucity of Christian 
soldiers, who seem to be in earnest, as earthly soldiers 
are in earnest. So that the way is prepared for stating 
two great means of promoting Christian com^age and 
strength. 

I. The source of manly earnestness is truth he- 
lieved. It is so in trade, agriculture, mechanics, and 
warfare ; why should it be less so in religion ? The cry- 
ing sin of our young men in the church is voluntary 
ignorance ; ignorance of theological truth in its definite 
expression and just connexion. How can they hope 
the fire to bm-n, when they will not take the time or 
trouble to lay on fuel ? The most intense heat, and 
consequently the most powerful action, proceed from 
deep inward conviction of religious truth, derived from 
laborious study of the Scripture. 

I foresee your reply : you have no time. The age 
is so active, city engagements are so numerous, in a 
word, you are so busy, that you cannot improve your 
minds. Now, if this were a sound answer, we might 
dismiss you at once as hopeless, and say, we expect 
from you nothing great, nothing steadfast, since all that 
is elevated and memorable results from improvement of 
the mind. But this is altogether an evasion. No man 
who is not a slave is too busy to make himself a 
thorough religious scholar, that is, to lay up within him 
the formative elements of manly power. Your engage- 



330 'T^E YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

ments, we will suppose, are very great ; but are you 
more busy tlian David, who had a kingdom on his 
hands, which he successfully guided in war and peace, 
and yet found time to meditate on Scripture, and con- 
tribute some noble parts towards its completion ? Are 
you more busy than Paul, a traveller by land and sea, 
a preacher, author and apostle, whose entire life was a 
series of lofty deeds and heroic sufferings ; and who 
yet was deeply conversant with the Bible ? Are you 
more busy than Martin Luther, who preached almost 
daily, whose correspondence equalled that of a minis- 
ter of state, and whose published books almost make a 
library of themselves ; yet who daily and profoundly 
pondered on the AVord of Inspuation? Nay, there 
have been men in every calling and profession, including 
your own, who amidst full and prosperous worldly em- 
ployment, have redeemed hom^s to work the mine of 
Holy Learning. Bacon, Grotius, Sir Isaac Newton, 
and Chief Justice Hale, may show what philosophers 
and statesmen have been able to bestow on the sacred 
records. The truth, drawn out of the Scriptures and 
made the matter of lively faith, is that which wakes up 
and fortifies the character. And the cause of prevail- 
ing frivolity, vacillation and inefficiency, among certain 
well-disposed young persons, is, that there is nothing 
which they can be said to beheve with aU the heart. 
We may smile at the Commonwealth-man and the 
Scots Covenanter, for the sourness of their visages ; but 
those stern dark faces showed hke lanterns from the 



THE YOU^G AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 33]^ " 

torch of conviction within ; and mighty faith gave them 
earnestness of heart and strength of arm. One secret 
of their fortitude and energy and daring is found in 
the pocket Bible which each of them carried to the 
field, which he rehgiously read in camp, and which was 
often found next the heart when his dead body was 
earned from the field. The Book of God, when it is 
the one book, makes strong characters. Read it, study 
it, ponder over it ; be not content, my young friends, to 
go over so much daily as a task, or to snatch a passage 
in the hurry of an odd moment ; but lay yom^self out to 
accomplish a thorough investigation of its contents, to 
acquaint yourself with its order, structure and har- 
mony, to grapple with its difficulties, to systematize its 
truths, and to enrich your memory with its golden sen- 
tences. This is possible, seeing it is but one volume. 
Thousands have done so, and amidst difficulties as nu- 
merous and pressing as yours. Hundreds of Scottish 
peasants and day-labourers are at this very moment well 
instructed scribes mito the kingdom of God. And it 
will be a happy day for our American churches, when 
young persons of both sexes shall place the study of 
the Bible at the very head of all their intellectual pur- 
suits. Then shall we see a race, able as well as willing 
to cope with the wily Jesuit and confound the boasting 
Atheist. Then shall that life and buoyant activity, 
which the vital current of holy truth keeps up, manifest 
themselves in the very portion of society where improve- 
ment is most hopeful. 



332 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

11. If we look again for some solution of our mor- 
tifying problem, we shall find another cause of the 
tameness, irresolution and flight of our common re- 
ligious combatants, in the want of devotional habits. 
True manly strength in religion is nurtured at the 
mercy-seat and at the foot of the Cross. The appear- 
ance of zeal may be put on for a little while, but per- 
manent vigour must have a perennial source ; and the 
spring-head must be within. No external activity, 
though pushed to the utmost, can make up for the 
want of closet devotion. This is just the point, where 
the electric attachment with heaven is effected. Here 
the fire comes down from above. If we would learn 
how Elijah, Daniel, Paul, Augustine, Luther, White- 
field, Martyn, Payson, and Judson, came to quit them- 
selves like men, we must accompany them to their 
wrestling prayers. Nor are ministers of the Gospel 
alone to be imitated ; scholars, soldiers, merchants, have 
learnt this secret of strength, and have thus found a 
treasury of courage, hope, and success, which the world 
never suspected. My beloved young brethren, the 
world has already half- destroyed us, when we are too 
busy to pray. Better forego food or rest, especially 
better forego any amount of profit, than learn to live 
without communion with God in devotion. Let the 
Mohammedan muezzin, from his tower beside the 
mosque, penetrate our conscience, when he cries aloud, 
at daybreak, through all the lands of Islam, Frayer is 
better than sleep I Frayer is better than sleep ! 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 333 

But tlie great matter to be pressed is unconnected 
witli prescribed times or forms ; and the great question 
to be asked is, Do I habitually maintain a confidential 
intercourse with my Lord and Redeemer in acts of 
heavenly communion? If yea, then the channel of 
strengthening influences being open, there will infallibly 
be boldness and sufiiciency for the conflict of life. If 
nay, weakness, inconsistency, and defeat must ensue. 

The reason why the two things just mentioned pro- 
mote manly strength in the Christian character, is that 
by the word of God and prayer, more than by aU other 
ordinary means, we maintain conscious union with God, 
the fountain of all power. Here we perceive the con- 
nexion between an inward spiritual piety and an out- 
ward aggression and triumph. No longer need we dis- 
sever the contemplative and the active, in life ; one is 
the source of the other. When some mighty cataract 
bursts over its wall of mountain-rock, we are not to for- 
get that the flood has been gathering force and volume 
in a long preceding flow. So also the visible activity of 
an enterprising Christian is to be traced to months and 
years of secret converse with God. 

The more the balance is disturbed by worldly ex- 
citement and external bustle in the daily calling, the 
more there is need of this preponderating weight of 
home-rehgion and closet-quietude, to regulate the other- 
wise jarring motions, like the fly-wheel or the governor 
in an engine. The recluse student and the seden- 
tary woman require this peculiar discipline of silence 



334 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

and shade far less than the man of business, who from 
morning till night scarcely redeems a moment for stated 
reflection. He must, by stern resolution and self-de- 
nial, gain some hour to hear God speak, and to speak 
to God, or he will inevitably shrink and wither down 
into the every- day worldly professor; who is bold at a 
bargain and cowardly in faith ; earnest on week-days and 
half asleep on the Sabbath; indefatigable in trade-labours 
and unheard-of in operations for Christ's kingdom or his 
poor ; hot upon 'Change and ice-cold in Church. 

But the subject is too awful for satire. We need, 
in degrees beyond all power of expression we need, men 
vdth blood in their hearts, who shall be as courageous, 
as unflinching, as diligent, and as hopeful in the concerns 
of God, as hundreds are daily seen to be in the con- 
cerns of the world. We need not pause to show how 
immediate would be the effect on Christians and on 
society, if a general outbm^st of such zeal and effort 
should be witnessed in our day. And therefore we 
may at once proceed to the important truth, that the 
only hope of such an event must be founded on the in- 
crease of manly piety in the young. Unless those who 
are now ductile can take the image and superscription 
of such an earnestness, the next generation wiU be no 
stronger or nobler than the present. Mournful as the 
declaration is, it is not to be disguised, that we who, in 
our march, have turned the crest of life, and whose 
journey is westward and do^vn the hill, have already 
taken our habit and character. We may regret the 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 335 

past, but clianges for the better, though possible 
through grace, are not Hkely to be numerous or remark- 
able. And then, our career is chiefly run, and all that 
remains must take much of its colour from the good or 
evil of om- better days. Strength of manly Christianity 
for the time that is coming must have its foundations 
laid in the youth of the present time. In this view of 
the subject, it is pleasant to consider that we of the 
more aged party are the minority, and our number is 
lessening very rapidly ; while you, young men, are nu- 
merous, a reinforcement fresh and vigorous, ready to 
step mto our places. May God grant you grace to 
wage this warfare more valiantly and successfully than 
we have done 1 Om^ best hopes for the Church of the 
future, under God, is in what we descry of promise in 
young Christians. Unless we depend on miracle and 
supernatural intervention, the progress of religion for 
the next twenty or thirty years will be according to the 
knowledge, piety and ardour of the youthful levies into 
our grand army. And this ought to be a powerful in- 
ducement to every ingenuous and public-spirited young 
man, whatever may be his vocation, to aim at a higher 
me^sm-e of devotion and love, than he has been accus- 
tomed to see in his companions. 

Consider what kind of Christian character and con- 
duct must be demanded by the period about to dawn. 
Deliberately ask yourselves, is not manly earnestness in 
Christ's cause especially required for the times which 
are coming upon the earth ? " Watch ye," says the 



336 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 

text. It is a word of command, as when a guard is 
turned out ; the mihtary order to keep awake, because 
dangers are imminent and foes are expected. Watch 
YE. It calls the young men of America to mount the 
walls and reconnoitre the field. And no one who has 
at all kept abreast of the signs of the times can give a 
glance toward the future, without starting up aroused 
and earnest at the probabilities of trying times and 
new emergencies, which will call for stout hearts and 
strong hands. The combination of omens during a few 
years natm-ally leads reflective patriots and Christians 
to search afresh into the prophetic oracles ; and both 
Providence and the Word teach us to await a period in 
which a robust Christianity shall have all its nerve 
brought to the test. Wo to the young man who goes 
up to this battle with weak and sickly habit, with slen- 
der faith and with waning love ! On what side can we 
look, without recognising the tokens of approaching 
commotion ? We thought, in our simplicity, that wars 
were almost obsolete ; but the gathering tread of the ten 
thousands in the Tauric peninsula, and the dead by dis- 
ease and sword, correct our mistake. The tides of our 
own American politics no longer run smooth ; and the 
controversies are as novel as they are momentous, so 
that we know not even at home what a day may bring 
forth. Elements stir in our bosom which may be thrown 
out with volcanic eruption on any one of several ques- 
tions, domestic and foreign. Then we are not so far 
from the old hemisphere as once we were. Directly or 



THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 337 

indirectly, the present European, or more truly Eastern 
war, may, as a remote consequence, involve our own 
national peace. Nay, a revolution in remote Asia may 
prove very soon to be not merely between Cliinese and 
Mantcliou, or between autocracy and revolt, but be- 
tween error and truth, between Belial and Christ, be- 
tween persecuting outlawry of missions and the unex- 
ampled diffusion of the Gospel in that vast empire. An 
earnest mind will also pray for triple strength and triple 
manhood, in considering the fortunes of Rome, and 
the probable contest between America and the Pope. 
Wai's and rumours of wars will possibly be accompanied 
or followed, in some lands, by infidel and popish perse- 
cutions ; and so the sons of those present will need to 
be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might. 
Different as our interpretations of prophecy and our 
prognostications may be, there is, I suppose, no one 
among us, who looks for a quiet time, halcyon days, an 
Augustan age of art and letters and gentle luxury, for 
om^ immediate descendants. No prophet am I ; but 
when I look intently on my sons, and on you my dear 
young parishioners, I seem to myself Hke one who hears 
and sees tokens of a sifting, and a shaking, and a suf- 
fering dispensation. " I am pained," cried Jeremiah to 
an incredulous people ; " I am pained at my very heart : 
my heart maketh a noise in me ; I cannot hold my 
peace, because thou hast heard, O my soul, the sound 
of the trumpet, the alarm of war ! " And we also, in 
the midst of subterranean concussions and trumpet 
22 



338 THE YOUNG AMEBIC AN CHRISTIAN. 

calls, think of possible convulsions and trials of fortitude, 
and desire for those who come after us a Christianity 
in earnest. 

Be men, therefore, in knowledge, in faith, in self-de- 
nial, in endurance, in effort, in diligence, in perseverance, 
in love. Or to comprehend it in a word, "Be ye holy." 
That which contributes to your inward piety will secure 
your strength. As has been already said, no increase 
of outward labour, no pragmatical hmTying from toil 
to toil, no forwardness of mere act, no almsgiving or 
other beneficence, will certainly make you mighty men 
of God. All these may exist where grace is low or even 
absent. But devoted attention to the Word and prayer 
will do it ; faith and vigilance and love will do it ; 
communion with a dying Saviour will do it ; the " unc- 
tion from the Holy One" mil do it. Let me vehe- 
mently exhort you to seek a Christian experience 
higher, broader and deeper than we, your predecessors 
and teachers, have exhibited ; or than you observe in 
the religious world around you. Tor if Christ intends 
great blessings for the next age, it is likely that he will 
pour a three-fold anointing on the young men of this. 
Happy shall be the Evangelist of that period, a period 
thus resembling the primitive and apostolical days, who 
shall feel free to say ; " I write unto you, young men, 
because ye have overcome the wicked one ; I have -writ- 
ten unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the 
Word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcome 
the wicked one." 1 John ii. 13, 14. 



XV. 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 



A CHARITY SERMON. 



DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST * 



Matt. xxv. 37. 



" Then shall the righteous answer him, saying. Lord, when saw we 
thee an hungered, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ? 
When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in ? or naked, and 
clothed thee ? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came 
unto thee ? " 

Out of this divine picture of the groups around the 
last Tribunal, let us take a single point, detaching it 
from the rest. The modesty, humility, and self-forget- 
fuhiess of the righteous, shall introduce what we have 
to say on a matter of great importance. The good 
deeds of then' hfe they scarcely recognise as having 
been such. They seem to forget that which God re- 
members, even their works of mercy. Certainly these 
blessed of the Father, brethren of the Son, and heirs of 
the Kingdom, do not belong to the class who trumpet 

* New York, June 13, 1858. 



342 DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST. 

their alms and rear monuments to their own goodness. 
Having done good by stealth, they blush to find it 
fame. Christ's applauses surprise them, and at an hour 
when the faces of millions on the left are gathering black- 
ness, their cheeks are suifased with ingenuous blushing. 
They stand amazed that the Son of Man, now come in 
his glory with all the holy angels, should so overwhelm 
then- trifling services with a glorious reward. Nay, 
they can hardly recollect any service at all. The minis- 
tries were so trifling, and were bestowed on objects so in- 
considerable, often with such mixture of bad motives, 
and such deficiency of good, that it amazes them to 
find every transient item legible in the book of the 
Judge, now seated upon the throne of his glory. Such 
is the representation given by our Lord himself, of the 
feehngs with which a righteous man will receive the 
gracious award. 

Now, in parabolic sayings of this kind, no one will 
expect exactness of recital, as to the very words uttered 
before the throne. It is enough that we catch the great 
lessons breathed by the spirit of the passage. Every 
true servant saved by grace, will discover " at that day," 
how momentous have been the consequences of acts too 
small to be remembered. He will see, that a righteous 
man may have been continually putting forth uncon- 
scious influence ; may have been ministering to his 
Master, when his mind was busied chiefly about his 
brethren ; and that, while he sought the gratification of 
a benevolent heart, he may have rendered a service 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 343 

honourable and grateful to his Lord. Among the nu- 
merous teachings, therefore, of this magnificent vision, 
one may suffice for the present occasion. It is this : 

No ONE CAN ESTIMATE THE AMOUNT OF SERVICE REN- 
DERED TO Christ in apparently little things. 

To trace this current of good deeds to its source, is 
not difficult. Wherever there is regeneration, there is 
love to Christ. Wherever love to Christ exists, it pres- 
ently shows its fruits, in love to the brethren. The 
connexion is publicly owned by Him, who, pointing to 
the right, says, " These, my brethren." Benevolence, 
thus dnected, leads to beneficence. True Christians do 
*'not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and 
in truth." " Love unfeigned " is perpetually passing 
into act, with regard to every member of Christ who 
can be reached. The Lord Jesus vouchsafes to receive 
every such benefit rendered to any one of his people as 
conferred upon himself. And lest there should be a 
misgiving on this point, as if our Lord took account 
only of favours bestowed on distinguished disciples, he 
expressly instances the most inconsiderable. " And the 
King (the introduction of which title just here, merits 
our particular notice) shall answer and say unto them, 
Verily, I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it 
unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have 
done it unto me." No act of kindness, even the small- 
est, is unobserved or disregarded by our King. He 
says in his heart of every such act : "It is done to me." 
Yet the passage before us shows, that he who puts 



344 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 

forth this act of bounty or mercy may entirely lose 
sight of its terminating on any object greater than the 
sufferer whom he relieves ; indeed, even at the moment 
of relief, he may not explicitly own the reference of the 
act to Christ. One may therefore really minister to his 
Redeemer, when his soul is chiefly taken up with some 
Lazarus at the gate, or some wounded wretch left by 
robbers on the road to Jericho. The Master, never- 
theless, accounts the deed as done to himself. 

That we are to do all things " to the glory of God," 
and " in the name of the Lord Jesus," is fixed in the 
minds of all believers, by two remarkable maxims. But 
conscientious inquirers sometimes doubt whether any 
acts can be justly said to have this quality and inten- 
tion, unless there be a distinct view of the Lord, as the 
object to Avhom the service is rendered. Doubtless, a 
view thus distinct is good, and much to be desired, 
siifce we cannot too much place our blessed Master be- 
fore the mind, as the end of all our actions. At the 
same time, the passage which we are considering shows 
that, provided we be in a state of grace, we may be 
feeding, refreshing, lodging and visiting the Son of 
God, w^hen, to om- own apprehension, we are only com- 
forting the hungry, thirsty, homeless, or imprisoned 
brother-man. And this is sustaining, in no common 
degree, to those who consider the limitations of human 
thought, and the small scope of many sincere minds, 
which cannot look far beyond what is nearest to them, 
especially when they add the cheering truth, that of 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 345 

such acts, wliicli Jesus will tlius own, there are thou- 
sands in the calendar of any one Christian year. In- 
deed, in this way, a true follower of Christ fills up his 
life. The new nature is continually working its way 
outwards, according to the various objects which invite 
its flow ; and benevolence, inspired of God, seeks new 
ways of communicating happiness, even in the smallest 
particulars. Nor are these effluences of the sanctified 
nature, in the way of kindly acts, the less Christian, 
even if at the moment of performance the happy spirit 
does not distinctly think of its being done to Christ 
himself. The inward spring is perpetually running, 
marking its track by the green margin which it irrigates. 
A land, merciful, unselfish heart is always looking 
around for some one to be the object of its care ; and 
love is the same in its kind, when it gives a kingdom, 
and when it gives a flower. The clean raiment, gently 
laid beside the pauper's bed by the modest hand of a 
child, is as honourable in God's sight as the thousands 
builded into marble. This internal principle of good- 
will, in a soul created anew after the image of the Di- 
vine beneficence, acts itself out to aU the hmnan species 
of whatsoever religion, language, condition, creed, or 
colour ; and even makes itself known towards the lower 
animals, and all sentient beings. '• A righteous man 
regardeth the life of his beast ; but the tender mercies 
of the wicked are cruel." 

We must nevertheless retm-n to the brotherhood, 
the members of Christ, as the chosen objects of charity, 



346 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 

affectionate care, and seasonable help. As we have op- 
portunity, we do good to aU men, but specially to those 
who are of the household of faith. The image of our 
Lord is in our poor neighbour, and we love it, even 
when we are not thinking of the reward which He will 
bestow. The very name of Christ, even where the 
image is obscured or dim, or not in any way apparent, 
goes for something in our esteem. Thus we honour 
the supposed signature of a friend, until we discover it 
to be forged. In foreign, and especially in unbeheving 
lands, the heart thrills towards one who is even nom- 
inally a Christian. Suppose we are mistaken ; suppose 
we do a kindness to one who is undeserving; what 
then ? Christ is deserving, and we did it in his name. 
It is marvellous what conscience some people make of 
never giving an alms amiss ; as if it were the greatest of 
blunders to confer an iiTCgular kindness on some poor 
suffering creature, not so good as they ; as if charity^ 
were the only mode of erroneous outlay ; as if every 
superfluity of their wardrobe, every extravagant bauble 
of their ornament, every costly rarity on their board, 
did not go to run up an account of peiTerted steward- 
ship, greater in the aggregate than all they ever bestow- 
ed with their own hands upon the poor, right or wrong. 
If you behold Christ in your supposed brother, you 
honour Christ by the ministry, even if peradventure 
you mistake the character of the beneficiary. God 
only reads the heart. Those whom we doubt, and 
whose profession we discredit, may have been held 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 347 

down by troubles and temptation, and may, in the siglit 
of the Allseeing, be as worthy as yourselves. If you 
are " the children of your Father which is in heaven," 
you will remember that he maketh his sun to rise on 
the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just 
and on the unjust. 

My hearers, I would not reject from some semblance 
of this brotherhood the vilest and worst of the sons of 
Adam. Each is a man and a brother. The nature 
which the Son of God assumed, in his incarnation, is 
their nature also. They share in the very humanity 
which He took. There is a sense in which He " tasted 
death for every man." There is an apphcability of this 
death and its piacular fruits to every man. There is a 
commandment that the glad news of this love shall be 
preached to " all nations " and to " every creature.'' 
There is therefore a unity of the whole species, not only 
as the science of the world has demonstrated, in one 
parental pair, but in the assumption of their very nature 
by our Redeemer. And hence a true and scriptm^al 
philantlu-opy seeks the happiness of man, as man, and 
as claiming a human kindred with Him whom we love 
and adore. T^Hiile then we are unquestionably bound 
to look with peculiar regard on those who are Christ's 
inwardly and spiritually, by a vital union, we are no- 
where urged to any sohcitous inquisition, how good a 
sufferer must be before we shall help him for Christ's 
sake. And if we should be happy enough to wrest a 
poor wretch from sliipwreck, jail, or starvation, we do 



348 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 

not suppose our Lord will any the less remember the 
tribute, if in the end it should turn out that the person, 
far from being a decent church member, was no better 
than she who broke the box of aromatics, or she to 
whom the Master said, " Go, and sin no more." If we 
imitate the divine goodness, let us never forget that 
when God's saving mercy comes to us, it always finds 
us unworthy. Whenever in the Scriptures we are ex- 
horted to acts of beneficence, we are sent to the misera- 
ble as miserable ; that is enough. Certification of desert, 
especially of godliness, is not presupposed. " Blessed 
is he that considereth the poor ; the Lord will deliver him 
in time of trouble." Ps. xli. 1. And still more parallel : 
" He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord : 
and that which he hath given will he pay him again." 
Prov. xix. 17. Jesus records the loan, and makes re- 
muneration, even to him who cries astonished, "When 
saw we thee poor and had pity on thee ? " 

The very striking portion of the language used by 
the redeemed which now occupies us, tends directly to 
this point : that a servant of Christ may be performing 
acts which the Lord accepts as benignantly as if termi- 
nating on himself in person, when all the while the 
humble happy servant, though habitually loving Cln*ist, 
was unconscious of more than the glow of love and pity 
towards a fellow-creature. We do not say that refer- 
ence to Jesus, the Chief-beloved, will not dart in, from 
time to time, amidst the charities of life, Hke stray 
sunbeams through the network of branches in shady 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 349 

places of the grove ; such is always the heavenward 
reference of regenerate souls ; but the rapid and almost 
instinctive impulses of Christian kindness often leave no 
time to look fully at anything but the famished, weep- 
ing, or bleeding sufferer. It will be apparent, upon the 
least reflection, that difibrence in degree or amount, the 
more or less of the benefits conferred, makes no differ- 
ence in the principle. Do any good, be it great or small, 
to a brother of Christ, and you do it to Christ. What 
new rays of encouragement are here shed over the 
walks of om' common life, which is made up of seeming 
trifles ! It is as if the Lord Jesus had come with his 
hallowing presence, into the scenes of our daily occupa- 
tion ; to sit beside our well, to tread the planks of our 
fishing-boat, to smile on us with remonstrance when 
cumbered with much serving. Nothing is small, which 
the Master accepts as tribute. Little things become 
great, when done in a great cause, and out of loyalty 
to a great King. It is not the price, but the homage. 
Only a sordid, mercenary, venal mind would prefer the 
value of dollars and cents, accumulate the ciphers as 
you please, to the value of a ring, a lock of hair, a word 
of hearty postscript, an old tear-stained Bible, marked 
aU through its tattered pages, a smile of love, a dying 
kiss. These are life's imponderables, which are also 
invaluables. The cup of cold water, in the name of a 
disciple, refreshes the soul of the Master and has his 
sm-e reward. The two mites of the widow (less than 
the cost of three sparrows) go for more than the thou- 



350 DAILY SERVICE OF CHEIST. 

sands of the opulent. The heart is all. The giver 
stamps the gift, and the intention defines the giver. 
So Hkewise in regard to the person benefited; little 
things, we may say again, become great, when done in 
behalf of Christ's "little ones." And these are con- 
tinually about us. The poor we have always with us; 
and God hath chosen the poor rich in faith. Ostenta- 
tious charities, of great figures, performed by proxy, 
should never take the place of personal kindnesses, 
though known only to God and the recipient. 

Life is so ordered in providence, that what we call 
great deeds occur only now and then. Even princes 
and conquerors cannot be always magnificent. Espe- 
cially we, who are not distinguished, must find om* 
occasions of obedience in the shop, the farm, the school, 
the kitchen, the office, the ship, the family. If we are 
not doing good here; if a barren sentimentahty be- 
guiles us into dreaming of some future, romantic, con- 
spicuous service ; if we pass by the sister, the servant, 
the alms-person that rings timidly at our gate, or the 
errand-boy who brings supplies, while we plan beautiful 
schemes of distant and collective good ; we are not the 
persons whom Jesus means. Common life, in its hum- 
blest domestic flow, is full of opportmiities for honouring 
om^ Lord. You can scarcely make a single turn within 
the ch'cle of home and daily work, without finding occa- 
sion to act out some inward principle of divine benevo- 
lence. " One of the least of these" Christ's " brethren," 
may sit beside your hearth, in the person of some pa- 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 35^ 

rent, grandparent, or widowed relative. Christ may 
expostulate with you, for your neglect of some kinsman 
who is "waxen poor," and whom with coldness and 
pride you abandon to the tender mercies of strangers. 
*' If any provide not for his own, and especially for those 
of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse 
than an infidel." Acts of mercy towards those who are 
daily meeting us in the unromantic paths of ordinary 
intercourse, fall properly under the head of ministries to 
the Lord. A true Christian will endeavour to enliven 
every particular of service to fellow-creatures with this 
consecrating intention. This spirit of love will give 
verdui'e and fragrance to performances otherwise with- 
ered and repulsive. Thus, for example, the home du- 
ties of Woman, restrained as she is from publicity and 
the guidance of affairs, may be woven into a blessed 
tissue of service, often unconscious, to Christ Jesus the 
Lord. Charity ^viU not house itself, we admit, nor 
selfishly shut out thoughts of sufferers abroad. But we 
always discover that those who are permanently and 
consistently most useful abroad, are those who have 
fii'st proved themselves most faithful in charities at 
home. And, whether at home or abroad, the great 
majority of mankind must expect their usefulness, in 
other words their work for Christ, to consist in a series 
of familiar and oft-recurring acts, each apparently in- 
considerable by itself. 

" 'Tis a little thing 
To give a cup of water ; yet its draught 



352 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 

Of cool refreshment drained by fevered lips 

May give a stock of pleasure to the frame, 

More exquisite than when nectarean juice 

Kenews the life of joy in happiest hours. 

It is a little thing to speak a phrase 

Of common comfort which, by daily use, 

Has almost lost its sense ; yet on the ear 

Of him who thought to die unmourned, 'twill fall 

Like choicest music." * 



How blessed a service ! liow munificent a Master 1 By 
this ubiquity in his suffering bretln:en, he is always 
present wherever a generous office can be performed. 
And let us not forget the very acts of mercy, the par- 
ticular charities wrought by the righteous, and remem- 
bered by the King, charities confined to no age or na- 
tion, but practicable in whatsoever spot we encounter 
famine, parching thirst, exile, nakedness, disease, or 
bondage. Let us go in quest of Jesus, among the 
half-starved occupants of the tall, overcrowded tenant- 
house, where the restoring beverage, so familiar to. our 
tables, never courts the taste of the scorched and hectic 
pauper ; or sick-beds, where the foreigner and emigrant 
pants for breath in summer and shivers in winter ; or, 
most neglected of all, in the prison-house, abode at once 
of shame, vice, ignorance and woe. All these, and such 
as these, all forms of misery, begotten of sin, and 
swarming most opprobriously in cities, under the very 
eaves of Christian wealth and lofty fashion, cry to us in 

* Lord Talfourd. 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 353 

the name not merely of humanity, but of om- Lord. 
Every system of means which offers access to these 
representatives of our Master, and affords ways of serv- 
ing him, should be honoured and upheld. But we 
should not allow individual effort to be swallowed up by 
great organizations. The machinery which intervenes 
between us and the Saviour, to whom we would minis- 
ter in his poor members, is an evil, even if a necessary 
evil. Association, subscription, collection, stated agency, 
beneficent proxies, these are indispensable ; but observe 
for what reason. They carry the alms of him who is 
too weak, too busy, or too old, to go always in person ; 
they divide and methodize the work, so that no part 
may be overlooked, and no part over-served ; and they 
cause a few, trained and practised, to do the work of 
many. But, after all, those organizations are best, 
which, while they secure these objects, assign most of 
their task of visitation and aid to free-vdll agents, and 
so increase rather than lessen the amount of individual 
charity. The Sunday School is one, and only one, of a 
class which somewhat realizes these ideas. When con- 
verts in large numbers are brought into the church, and 
with the impulse of new love look around for a way to 
do good, every one knows that the instrmnent which 
first and naturally presents itself is the Sunday School. 
The day is coming, when we shall have many others, 
equally aiming at the rescue of fallen humanity. At 
present, this form of charitable organization carries in 
its train much more than scriptural instruction on the 
23 



354 DAILY SERYICE OF CHRIST. 

Lord's day ; for Sunday Scliool teachers are more and 
more Bible readers and Tract distributors in alleys and 
attics ; Good Samaritans by tlie way, to pour oil and 
wine into hearts wounded by intemperance andunbehef ; 
visitors of infirmaries, ships, and prisons ; exhorters and 
reprovers of sin at wharfs and ferries ; seekers for the 
sick poor, up and down the vast dimensions of om* me- 
tropolitan misery. If you would find the thousands 
who do this work, while you sit on your luxurious sofas, 
and criticise the indiscreet outlay of public charities, 
you must look to the teachers in Sunday Schools. In 
my judgment the elite of beneficei^t and therefore happy 
Christians in America is in the Sunday School ranks. 
And though after all these weary days and anxious 
nights, some of them may exclaim, " When, O Master, 
saw we thee in distress and ministered unto thee," they 
will not fail of their reward. As a means of bringing 
out the latent and diversified talent of a congregation, 
the Sunday School is at present above all others. But 
the time is not distant when, under the influence of 
fruitful awakenings and the pressure of increasing love 
for Christ, the principle now very much confined to 
Sunday Schools will, by a happy extension, be reahzed 
in sister organizations, so diversified as to detect and 
employ in appropriate ministry every lurking talent of 
the brotherhood. While, however, we are awaiting a 
period when the inward energies of the Church shall be 
called out with more equable and universal effect, let 
each of us, in his own post, be living for Christ. We 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 355 

have nothing that we have not received ; let there be 
nothing held back from the Lord. We serve a forbear- 
ing and munificent King, who, though he needs none 
of us, vouchsafes to treat om' poor doings as if he were 
the party obhged. What a contemptible tribute is the 
fullest obedience of our best day, considered in itseK ! 
If we had " done all those iUngs'' which are enjoined, 
we ought stni to say, " We are unprofitable servants ; 
we have done that which was our duty to do." It was 
" duty," dues to be rendered, what we ought ; we owed 
it; matter of debt. But mark how he receives it, 
how he gathers up the bruised, withered, scattered 
flowers which seemed dying in our hands, and makes 
of them a garland ; binds them on his brow as a dia- 
dem'; points to them before his angels as an honour. 
The self-condemning disciple sees no beauty or worthi- 
ness but in his prince. Conscious of short-coming, he 
hears the plaudit, and looks around among the right- 
hand m^Tiads in quest of him whom it may befit. Not 
me, assuredly. " When saw / thee, in sorrow, and 
ministered to thee!" Yes, thee, blushing saint — thee; 
the Master's eye seeketh thee. The moment has ar- 
rived for discoveries, and while the wicked is hor- 
ror-stmck with the fiery record of his secret sins, the 
" Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin," read by the universe 
in those asbestos leaves, the child of God is amazed to 
find that every kindness to a httle one is tabled, owned 
and rewarded ; " good measure, pressed down and 
shaken together." The secret chanty has become pub- 



356 DAILY SERVICE OE CHRIST. 

lie ; according to that word, " tliere is nothing covered 
that shall not be revealed, neither hid that shall not be 
known; " which ought to teach us that every thing in 
the nature of service to Christ, has a certain greatness. 
I deplore from the bottom of my soul the disposition of 
some Protestants to under^^alue and carp at acts of 
mercy to the poor, the sick, or the dying, because Ro- 
manists have made much of them. God forbid that 
neglect of Christ's poor should ever be a characteristic 
of Reform ! God be thanked, that true Protestantism 
has always walked in the steps of that Catholic charity 
which is older than popes and monkery. If a Good 
Samaritan do a deed of mercy, let no meanness or in- 
ward sense of dehnquency lead you to scowl at it. 
*' Go thou and do likewise ; " go and do better. To 
take a single instance ; the great difficulties which pri- 
vate families, however wealthy, sometimes experience, 
in getting nurses for sudden emergencies of illness, 
ought to make us all exclaim, " How must it be with 
the poor ! " and to concert measures for training Chris- 
tian attendants for the sick ; a service which has no 
more necessary conriexion with Popery, than has the 
binding up of a bleeding wayfarer's wounds. For one, 
I will take the liberty of loving and applauding the act 
of mercy to a sufferer, by whomsoever performed ; and 
this without groping into those hidden motives which 
can be read by God only. " The day shall declare it.'' 
It shall declare thy feeblest, most faltering deed. O, 
Christian woman ! 0, httle child ! Here is the principle 



DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 357 

to preserve us from deeming anything little. The kind 
word, gesture, loo'k, to a mother or a brother — some 
withhold these who are very pubhc with good deeds to 
strangers — shall be owned as unto Christ. 0, what a 
Master ! Who will not love him and serve him 1 Let 
me close with the words of Bishop Andre wes : " There 
is glory which shall be revealed ; for when the Judge 
Cometh, some shall see thy face cheerful, and shall be 
placed on the right, and shall hear those most welcome 
words, ' Come ye blessed.' They shall be caught up 
in clouds to meet the Lord ; they shall enter into glad- 
ness, they shall enjoy the sight of Him, they shall be 
even with Him. These alone, only these, are blessed 
among the sons of men. O, to me the meanest grant, 
the meanest place, there under their feet ; under, the 
feet of thine elect, the meanest among them ! " 



XVI 



M I E T H 



MIETH.* 



Peoveebs xvii. 22 > 
"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine." 

In reading our admirable version of tlie Holy 
Scriptures, a little scliolarsliip and a little knowledge 
of antiquity are useful, in order that we may not put 
modern and degraded meanings on terms which are 
grave and venerable. If we consult the Anglo-Saxon 
roots, or even the father of English poetry, we shall see 
at once how this applies to the words mirth and merry. 
If in modern parlance we distinguish between cheerful- 
ness and mirth, ascribing to the latter a more giddy, 
unseasonable and vociferous effusion of hilarity, we shaU 
lose the entire force of oiu* text and other passages. 
Mirth, in good old English, included even the graver 
kinds of cheerfulness. The old Psalter praises God 

* New York, February 28, 1858. 



362 Mii^TH. 

with " awful mirth ;" both words being such as have 
suffered deflection. And the adage of Solomon is 
cleared by the exhortation of the Apostle James : " Is 
any merry, let him sing psalms/* A merry heart is 
therefore precisely a cheerful heart ; and that it " doeth 
good like a medicine," is one of those truths which 
every one of us, my brethren, has found true, blessed 
be God, in his own experience. In the course of re- 
mark on a somewhat unusual topic, which however is 
given me by inspiration itself, I shall endeavour to 
bring forward some truths respecting the nature and 
results of true cheerfulness, and the best way of seek- 
ing this heahng influence. If the termination of the 
discourse should be unlike its beginning, let us pray 
that it may not leave any the less of salutary impression 
on the heart. Cheekfulness is a symptom of inward 
health, as truly as bodily alertness is of outward health. 
In regard, however, to mind as well as body, the symp- 
tom may itself become a remedial agent ; the effect 
may in its turn act the part of a cause. 'For example, 
a sound appetite, which is a sign of vigom% may itself 
tend to the production of further vigour. And so, true 
cheerfulness, springing from mental health, may fall 
into a chain of causes, promoting yet greater health. 
You are therefore invited to consider the means of pro- 
moting that genuine Cheerfulness, or Mirth in old Eng- 
lish, which doeth good like a medicine. 

I. The primary truth in this part of the philosophy 
of hfe, is that true Cheerfulness is a concern both of 



MIRTH. 363 

body and mind. The junction of the immaterial with 
the material part in our nature is not like the annexa- 
tion of two ahen substances by a tie. Unlike as are 
body and soul, they were made for one another, and 
never in their normal condition to exist apart. If sun- 
dered for a Httle, it is that they may be rejoined. They 
are united in every part. Body acts on soul, and soul 
acts on body. This indeed was denied by one of the 
most ingenious philosophers that ever lived, the great 
Leibnitz, who taught that mind cannot influence matter 
nor matter mind ; but that the Creator had made the 
two, like instruments tuned together from eternity, al- 
ways parallel in action, each responding to the other, 
yet with no mutual agency. No one now beheves in a 
hypothesis so ingeniously perverse. Sense and con- 
sciousness testify to us every moment that body acts on 
mind and mind on body ; and in nothing is this recip- 
rocal agency more undeniable than in health and dis- 
ease. A sickly body sours, or saddens, or inflames the 
mind: a mind on the rack attenuates, wrinldes and 
enfeebles the body. The old theory of animal spirits 
still colours the language of common life, even when 
physiology rejects the notion of these subtile substances 
running up and do^vn the system. But all hypotheses 
apart, who knows not that what we call good spirits 
quicken the pulses and clothe the frame with flesh, while 
fasting, loss of functional power, or injury to the organs, 
engender melancholy ? In the large and proper ac- 
ceptation of the term, we include the well-being of body 



364 ^i^TH. 

and soul together, when we use the word health. He 
is not healthy, though with a frame of iron, who has 
moody flights and delirious fancies. How delicate was 
the adjustment, how perfect the temperament of the 
parts, when the father of our race was created and 
placed in Eden ! Body and soul were twin portions of 
a wonderful contexture which worked sweetly and with- 
out a jar. Marvellous will be the change in the coming 
state, when these vile bodies shall be fashioned hke 
" unto Christ's glorious body ;" from the resurrection 
to go on without hinderance, in union with correspond- 
ing souls, to a glory never known in Paradise. The 
nearest approach we can ever have to this state, in the 
present life, is where the mens sana in corpore sano pos- 
sesses health and strength. Of such a condition true 
Cheerfulness is the accompaniment and indication. 
This we may maintain without running into absurdi- 
ties like those who talk about disease being a crime, and 
who would send all mental and moral ailments to the 
shop of the materiahst for rehef. The attempt to serve 
God and our neighbour with a broken constitution or 
a drooping mind, as many here have learnt by expe- 
rience, is hable to great disappointment. As we would 
not undertake a friend's business with a beast of bur- 
den wliich was lame, so we should be loath to bring to 
the work of the Lord a body which drags heavily at 
every step. Yet sometimes God himself so plainly 
lays the trial upon us, weakening our strength by the 
way, as in the case of Hezekiah or Trophimus, that our 



MIKTH. 



365 



lesson becomes that of resignation, patience, and qniet 
hope. Even then, it is our duty to use means for re- 
covery. Even then, one of these means is that cheer- 
fuhiess of heart which doeth good hke a medicine, and 
without which all the materia medica might be exhibit- 
ed in vain. Let those who enjoy health and hilarity, 
acknowledge dependance, and consider from whom the 
blessing comes. As there is a pride of family, of beau- 
ty, of riches, so there is a pride of health ; and some of 
the most signal and admonitory reverses we have ever 
known, have befallen families and individuals whose 
habit it was to vaunt that they owed nothing to the 
physician. Every day, if possible, every hour, let us 
give thanks that our health has had no interruption -, 
or, that it has continued long ; or, after illness and de- 
cay, that it has been restored. "It is of the Lord's 
mercy that we are not consumed, and because his com- 
passions fail not." That balance of the faculties, men- 
tal and bodily, which causes each and all together to 
work to the greatest advantage, manifests itself by a 
natural lightness of temper and clear animation of spir- 
its, which is most remarkable in youth, but which we 
sometimes observe even in the autumnal days of a beau- 
tiful old age. It is the greatest of aU blessings to the 
body; but at the same time it is a blessing which 
nothing bodily has power to confer. And, therefore, 
we must look higher. 

II. Inasmuch as the soul has the prerogative of gov- 
erning the body, there are numerous happy cases, in 



366 ^ii^TH. 

which there is a cheerful heart in a suffering and sickly 
frame. In every such instance the inward principle 
doeth good hke a medicine. Many a patient had per- 
ished years ago, but for the fortifying, sustaining, and 
even cm-ative power of a happy heart. Conflict there 
may be — there must be — ^because the effect of most 
bodily maladies, pains, and injuries is to subdue the 
mind ; but where the intellectual and moral strength is 
paramount, we have beheld even tortures made tolera- 
ble, and feebleness of lungs or limbs set aside by the 
internal power. No matter how exceptional such in- 
stances are, they are sufficient to prove, how really inde- 
pendent of external circumstances an immortal soul 
may become ; to refute the fallacy, that because the 
soul acts through organized matter, there is no longer 
any soul after dissolution; and to induce us all, in 
times of health and strength, to acquire those habits of 
mind and heart that may stand us in stead, when we 
come to the enfeebling trials of age or iUness. Where 
cheerfulness survives, after the departure of health or 
bodily ease, we shaU usually observe one or more of the 
following causes to be present. 

First. Sometliing in the nature of the malady or 
distress which does not spend its power on the mental 
part. " The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but 
a womided spirit, who can bear ? " Some diseases make 
a speedy and direct assault upon the nervous system, 
including its great origin, the brain. Some, especially 
in acute cases, so fill the frame with vexation, annoy- 



MIRTH. ^Qij 

ance, or even anguish, as to leave no freedom for tliouglit 
or possibility of peace. But others, and these the most 
numerous, though often severe and sometimes fatal, 
make no advance to the mind's citadel, and so leave 
reason in its supremacy. But this is not enough. 
Hence, 

Secondly. Cheerfulness in suffering may be due to 
natural elevation of spirits. Constitution, education, 
companionship, employment, opinions, customs of living, 
these are mighty confluent streams which go to form a 
river of habit, good or evil, in respect of cheerfulness ; 
which habit is too powerful to be turned aside by any 
ordinary contingencies of disappointment, pain, or weak- 
ness. Those whose profession leads them to be much 
in sick rooms are famihar with instances of this, which, 
to the inexperienced, would seem fabulous. 

Thirdly. The only source of genuine cheerfulness on 
the bed of sickness and death is the grace of God in 
the soul. But we have tarried long enough beside the 
chair of the invalid. May God grant to all such the 
cordial of inward heavenly joy ! A third consideration, 
applicable to every individual in this assembly, and 
founded on laws of nature, awaits our notice. 

III. Since both soul and body are made for exer- 
tion, there is nothing more conducive to cheerfulness, 
the result of their joint health, than fit employment. 
A house bereft of tenants goes to decay. A vehicle 
laid up without use rusts and moulders. A fine piece 
of machinery is never so safe, as when lubricated and 



368 ^i^TH. 

moving. Body and soul, made for perpetual activity, 
must work, and work together, in order to be in good 
condition. Of all engines, the human body is the most 
amazing. From the days of Socrates, as reported by 
Xenophon, philosophy has been studying the mechanics, 
the chemistry, the vital forces, the adaptations, the final 
causes of this structure, so fearfully, so wonderfully 
made. There is no step forward, to new principles in 
physics, in optics, in the growth of structures, which 
does not find itself anticipated by some marvellous 
realization of its idea in the human body. Considered 
as a working engine, there is none which works so 
cheaply, with so httle waste, and so long, or which con- 
tains such provision for its ovm. repair. How every 
survey of the skilful mechanism shows that it was made 
to move. Its central, propelling engine never stops, 
except in cases which cause instant dread of death. 
Heart, lungs, and brain, play on through all the thou- 
sand nights of sleep. An instinct of nature prompts 
the young to be in almost pei-petual motion. Absolute 
rest there is none. And if, from necessity or choice, 
any approach to immobility becomes the habitude of 
body, as is the case in some sluggish and morbid na- 
tures, the result is lethargy and endless disturbance of 
the vital functions. This frame was made for labour. 

Equally true is this of the yet more subtle, because 
spiritual part. The soul is essentially active. Of a 
mind that does not think, no man can frame a notion. 
The human mind is made to be active. It is inquiring. 



MIRTH. 



369 



and atliirst for knowledge. Its active powers irresistibly 
seek for some object on whicli to exert themselves. 
Healthful, moderate repose, chiefly by change of em- 
ployment, is good; but enth'e, continual, unbroken 
quiescence is misery. Never was there a more dire 
mistake than that of men who abandon the honest and 
useful business of hfe, under the pretext of rest. Unless 
they have singular resources, in science, literatm^e, or 
philanthropy, they sink into hebetude, weary of the 
everlasting hohday, let their heart corrode with sullen 
thoughts, and sometimes fall a prey to e^^l babits oi 
premature dotage. Philosophy, no less than Religion, 
enjoins — unless where invincible necessities from in- 
firmity or age clearly speak another language — ^that we 
should live workino;, and die in the harness. Hence 
the value of a trade or calling, and of workhig at it. 
I beheve it lengthens life. I believe it staves off tribes 
of maladies and conceits. I am sm-e it promotes that 
spring and elation of soul, without which life is a long 
disease. If you would find the most wretched man or 
woman in your neighbom^hood, look for the one who 
has nothing to do. Unless allowed to prescribe em- 
ployment, even the best physician cannot cure the vale- 
tudinary complainer. For after aU has been said, 
employment begets cheerfulness ; and " a merry heart 
doeth good like a medicine." 

IV. But man is not merely an intellectual, he is a 
moral being, and hence healthful cheerfulness requires 
as its indispensable conchtion a good conscience. To 
24 



370 MIRTH. 

be truly happy in mind, the soul must be at harmony 
with itself. I know the objection that you are framing 
in yom- thoughts, and I will dispose of it at the outset. 
You are thinking of numerous persons known to you, 
who are immoral, and yet intensely and extravagantly 
mirthful ; you have even known flagitious sinners, who 
were proverbial for laughter and good cheer. You 
recall to mind the thousands who haunt every place of 
amusement, and whose habits go to sustain the dens of 
boisterous wassail. Now, on a calm and serious view 
of the case, leaving religion out of the question, you 
will scarcely choose this species of hilarity as that which 
you would wish for a beloved son. It is scarcely such 
as will endure for a hfetime, or gild the dechning hours. 
You have probably seen enough of society to know 
that much of this ostentatious mirth is purely factitious, 
made up of the sympathies and contagion of good- 
fellowship and wine. Nay, you must be young as an 
observer, if you have not found that your merry friend 
indulges in a certain feigning. He is not so merry as 
he would have you believe. The wreathed smiles of his 
artificial visage partake of grimace. He is more smiling 
when met than when overtaken ; more full of jest with 
strangers than at home ; loud in company, stupid by 
himself ; in a word, bidding fair for an old age of stupor, 
gluttony, or drink. You know perfectly well, that if 
youth be left out of the account, the people who run 
after public amusements are precisely those who cannot 
enjoy sohtude, and who have never learned to endm^e 



MIRTH. 37]^ 

tliemselves. 0, that some of those, who recognise their 
own face in this Hkeness, would lay to heart the truth 
that their conscience is diseased! 

1. Conscience of crime is a tormentor. There is 
scarcely a Gentile sage or poet who has not said so, in 
description and example, for it needs no inspiration to 
reveal how this scorpion of the bosom can sting. The 
cases are so horrible, where habitual and repeated sin 
has reached the point of silencing and palsying con- 
science, that it is hard to say what may be the temper 
of a soul which has passed under this cautery ; but who 
among us would seek such a callous heart as the abode 
of cheerfulness ? Of aU passions none breathes more of 
the atmosphere of hell, than remorse. This ought to 
gain the attention even of those who have as yet been 
kept back from presumptuous sins ; because no one 
ever became suddenly vile, and they know not what 
may be the end of the way upon which they have 
entered, or whether their closing scene may not be 
maddened by despair. 

2. Far, very far on this side of atrocious crimes, 
there may be such continuance in transgression, as may 
embitter the conscience, and make quiet joy impossible. 
This case may be well studied by the young man or 
young woman, who, after a religious education, has re- 
strained prayer, neglected the Scriptures, stifled convic- 
tions, and gone into the world for happiness. There is 
a conscious dissatisfaction under aU the gayety. The 
day of pleasure is often followed by a night of disquie- 



3 '^2 MIRTH. 

tude. The intervals between one and another of those 
nocturnal assemblies which quench forever the religious 
emotions of many, are dull and pensive. The very face 
of the maiden, who ought to be rosy, jocund, and alert, 
is " sicklied o'er with a pale cast of thought." Some- 
thing is wrong. The pride of the house is wretched. 
Summer tours and winter dissipations, such as modern 
piety may approve, fail to restore the elasticity of a 
once healthful creature. The unwelcome truth is, the 
immortal spirit wiU not brook the treatment of such 
charlatanry. The soul craves its pecuhar and appro- 
priate food and refreshment. The immaterial and 
aspiring natm^e sighs for God. And how can it be 
cheerful ? 

More of the world's sadness and gloom than the 
world chooses to reveal, is caused by hearts ill at ease, 
and consciences disquieted with sin. There are persons 
who for years drag about a body wasted by the rest- 
less, consuming mind. While worldlings charge re- 
ligious people with gloom, they are themselves often 
kept in misery by their want of Christian peace. It 
requires no godliness to make one suffer from con- 
science. Natural principles, among all nations, suffice 
for this. Conscience utters the voice of law, or expos- 
tulation, of remonstrance, sometimes of menace, of 
retribution, of vengeance. It is for relief from such 
pangs that the troubled, aching soul goes to the Gospel. 
But tliither the deluded follower of pleasure or gain can- 
not bring himself to go. And till he goes, all his mirth 



MIRTH. 373 

and gayety are illegitimate and irrational, even if they 
are not simulated and liollow. Thousands walk our 
streets and flaunt in our assembhes, wearing the garb 
and the smirk of an assumed and conventional hilarity, 
who would sink to the earth, like the child's top, the 
instant they should cease to whirl. If they durst sit 
still long enough to feel the pulses, they would know 
that they are sick at heart. They have forsaken the 
fountain of Hving water, and have hewed them out 
cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold no water. 
Amidst much forced merriment, they are utterly void 
of all that vernal cheerfulness which is as characteristic 
of a well-regulated sound religion, as sweet flowers are 
of Spring. And the tendency is from bad to worse. 

3. Even in the ordinary narrow acceptation of the 
term in the world's idiom, a good conscience promotes 
ease of mind. It smooths the pillow. It removes 
acerbity from the tone, in hom^s of business. It recon- 
ciles the father to his family group, and the son and 
daughter to their home. But, in order to clear away 
clouds, calm the sullen swell of the mysterious ocean 
Avithin, and throw sunshine over the late darkened 
countenance, there is need of something more deter- 
minately gracious. Simple social morahty, honour 
in trade, truth, candour, hospitahty, neighbourly kind- 
ness, domestic affection — all beautiful, aU good, on a 
lower, scale of value — ^have no adequacy as answering a 
holy spiritual law, and therefore no power to pacify an 
enhghtened conscience. Though a sinner may be either 



374 MIRTH. 

exorbitantly gay or deeply stupid in his sins, he cannot 
feel these sins and be cheerful. Here I touch the sen- 
sitive spot that denotes the disease. No transgressor 
against an infinitely holy God can have healthful men- 
tal enjoyment, such as does good to soul and body, 
while he is vexed ^vith the conviction of his heinous 
guilt. And the point to be observed is, that no sinner 
can infallibly prevent such conviction and such distress. 
In this respect, as in others, the soul that forsakes God 
remains still in the hands of God. It is not for him to 
say when he shaU be disquieted for his sins, how long 
this disquietude shall last, or to what extreme of tor- 
ment it may rise. 

In a Christian land like ours, many a heart, wrung 
with agonizing reflections, never reveals itself to the 
ear and heart of human friendship ; and ah ! cannot, 
will not, reveal itself to the ear and heart of a compas- 
sionate God, in the outpourings of confidential prayer. 
Nothing is more wide-spread than uncomfortable feel- 
ings with regard to rehgious deficiency, which are strong 
enough to kill cheerfulness, but not so exphcit and de- 
veloped as to lead to decision. Yet such vague trouble 
of mind is often the precursor of salvation. Palse 
peace, it is true, sometimes comes in -, introduced by 
erroneous doctrine, self-righteous satisfaction, or spuri- 
ous exercises accepted as graces of the Spirit. But even 
this fails, either by want of permanency, or by leaving 
the heart still unblest mth the radiance of a serene joy. 
To walk on earth with the erect countenance of Chris- 



MIRTH. 375 

tian cheerfulness, there must be peace with conscience 
and peace with God. 

4. There is no such thing as a good conscience, 
except where there is a persuasion of acceptance with 
God, through the mediation of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
This persuasion causes the face to shine as did the face 
of Moses when he came do^vn from converse with God 
upon the Mount. Here is an irradiation which makes 
the soul lift itself in holy cheerfuln^s, just as the sun 
in May makes the violet and the rose unfold their 
leaves with freshness of beauty. " Wisdom maketh a 
man's face to shine." And of this heavenly wisdom or 
spiritual knowledge and service of God, the wise man 
says : "So shall they be life unto thy soul, and grace to 
thy neck ; when thou liest down, thou shalt not be 
afraid, yea, thou shalt lie down and thy sleep shaU be 
sweet." Prov. iii. 22, 24. 

It is proper just here to observe, in order to meet a 
difficulty of candidly inquiring minds, that the earliest 
exercises of penitent, returning minds are not always 
joyful. There may be bitterness beneath the soil and 
in the knotty trunk, when the clusters and fruitage 
above are dropping with sweetness; or, as convales- 
cence from sore disease is sometimes preceded by a 
fearful crisis, so the first transition from worldliness to 
serious thoughts of God and heavenly things is com- 
monly marked by alarm, humiliation, and grief. The 
anxious seeker's path circles the Old Testament Sinai, 
often many times, before it strikes off thitherward to- 



376 MIRTH. 

ward Mount Zion, and opens yonder at the Cross. But 
when it leads the wayfaring soul to " Jesus the Medi- 
ator of the New Covenant, and to the blood of sprin- 
kling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel," 
it presents to him a region of springtide joyfulness. 
There may be weeping clouds, there may be alter- 
nations like returning winter, but stUl the Sun of 
Righteousness is there. It is a Beulah, a land of cheer- 
fulness ; such cheerfulness as even does the body good, 
and drives the crimson tides with new impulses of life 
to members lately collapsed and chill. Are any notes 
of gladness more ravishing than those which the convert 
hears, amidst these green pastures beside these stHl 
waters ? Listen to what issues from the mouth of a glo- 
rious and beloved Friend, till now unknown ; hearken ! 
" Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For 
lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the 
flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of 
birds is come, and the voice of the tmi:le is heard in 
our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, 
and the vines with the tender grape give fragrance. 
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." Song, 
ii. 10-13. When Jesus speaks pardon and love to the 
soul, he gives cheerfulness and joy. At no epoch is this 
so strikingly felt, by reason of contrast, in passing from 
an anxious into a rejoicing state, as at first believing, 
the love of espousals. But I am so far from thinking 
these to be the highest raptures of religion, that my 
persuasion is firm and daily increasing, of "the mar- 



MIRTH. 



377 



vellous loving-kindness " of God, to liis unworthy but 
redeemed people, in the latter stages of their journey, 
even to the very last. To every true convert Jesus 
seems to say " Behevest thou ? thou shalt see greater 
things than these ! " When, therefore, we invite such 
as are the prey of unhealthy anxieties to try the effects 
of the grand restorative, we invite them, not to sighs 
and tears, not to manifold austerities of service, not to 
a forsaking of all their present solace mthout hope of 
indemnity, but to a peace of God which passeth all 
understanding, and a reasonable ground of habitual 
cheerfulness, on which, as on a tried foundation, they 
may (to say the very least) rest more securely than on 
any support sought or conceived of by the soul of man. 
Directly or indirectly, you are constantly seeking some 
tranquillity of soul, some rest for the immortal spirit, 
some slaking of the insatiable thirst. You struggle for 
it, as the tendrils of the vine wring their way in tenta- 
tive movement towards the light ; you turn towards it 
as the crushed worm under your feet writhes in search 
of ease. Out of rehgion, out of propitiation, out of the 
Lord Jesus Christ, you will never find it. You will, 
Hke those fifty fabled daughters of Danaus in the classic 
story, spend life, pouring water into vessels pierced 
like sieves ; or, more heavily rolling the mighty stone 
up the arduous mountain, that at each remove it may 
again turn upon you with thundering bound. And 
when you have tried all that worldly mirth can do, you 



378 MIRTH. 

will say with tlie repentant king, " I said in mine heart, 
Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy 
pleasm^e; and behold this also is vanity. I said of 
laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, what doeth it ? " 
Ecc. ii. 1, 2. 



XVII 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES* 



Isaiah xliii. 10. 
"Ye are my witnesses, saith tlie Lord." 

Christianity, as being from God, the sovereign 
Ruler of the Universe, asks no patronage from the 
great of this world. Learning, rank, opulence and 
power, which have weight elsewhere, are as nothing 
here. As if to show this in the strongest possible 
manner, God chose to estabhsh his Church of the new 
dispensation in absolute neglect of all such auxiliaries. 
He might have gained over the sagest of the Porch, 
the Academy, or the Lyceum, the professors of Tarsus 
and Alexandria, or the rabbins of Tiberias. He might 
have arrayed his evangelists in imperial pm^le, and 
heralded his gospel by lictors and sound of trumpet. 

* New York, June 20, 1858. 



382 BELIEVERS AEE WITNESSES. 

He might have caused princely armies to trample down 
opposing nations ; " But God hath chosen the foohsh 
things of the world to confound the wise, and the weak 
things of the world to confound the things which are 
mighty ; and base things of the world and things 
which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things 
which are not, to bring to nought things that are, that 
no flesh should glory in his presence." And hence, 
even when, in the progress of ages, the Church has 
subsidized many of these very influences, she has re- 
ceived them as followers, and never yielded them 
homage. Christianity has now so entrenched itself 
within the science, the letters, the pubhc institutions, 
and the kindly affections of mankind, that it looks with 
a benignant pity on mistaken creatures, who conde- 
scendingly talk as if evangehcal truth, by their good 
leave, was not so bad a thing, and as if, with a hberal 
construction and some reserves, the Bible might, after 
all, be received even by hberal tliinkers. The decayed 
Hidalgo, who stalks proudly in rags which his ancestral 
cloak scarcely hides, is not more ridiculous in his pride. 
Nay, the king who emerges from the straw of Bedlam, 
bowing as he yields sufferance and admission to his 
keepers, is quite as rational in his supercihous com- 
placency. After a thousand battle-fields, amidst innu- 
merable trophies, Revelation sits as a queen. Prom 
every nation and in every dialect, the wise and great 
flock to do her homage. The banks of the Nile and 
the Tigris, the monuments of Judea and the catacombs 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 333 

of Rome continually augment the glorious accumulation 
of their evidence. The scholarship and philosophy of 
the world are on the side of the Cross. And yet, over 
against our host of confessors, our Bacons, Pascals, 
Newtons, Henrys and Owens, we descry puny figures 
coming forward to lend the shelter and countenance of 
their insignificant pennon ! And who, forsooth, are 
they, that the " Virgin daughter of Zion" should ask, or 
even brook their aid ? By what names are these called, 
who are thus eager to inform us of their tolerance of 
Jesus, and their good opinion of the Lord of hosts? 
Peradventure some sciolist, undisciplined in any one 
severe science, midrilled in any ancient tongue, unfa- 
miliar even with the books of Scripture, but pert and 
voluble at counters, tables, clubs and dramng-rooms, 
and admired in his flippant cavil by groups more 
ignorant than himself. Or, it may be, some narrow 
pedant, aU behind the age, who has dozed in the cave 
of the Seven Sleepers, while the world has been rolliag 
on, and who in his simplicity is ignorant that the mate- 
rialism and plulosophism of Voltaire, D'Alembert, Vol' 
ney and Diderot, are just as vahd, even with decent 
infidels, as alchemy, magic, or the humoral pathology. 
Wlio cares (except in commiseration for his foolish soul) 
what such a one thinks of Christianity ? Or the voice 
of complaisance toward our holy rehgion may issue from 
some back-shop or foul attic, where, among Hcentious 
verse and graphic abomination, the thumbed and 
smutched volmnes, redolent of Birmingham or the 



384 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 

collieries, bear tlie grosser names of Paine, Carlisle, or 
Holyoake. This is generally emigrant deism, and its 
converts among us are fished up from the filthiest pools, 
where drink and unthrift lie alongside of brutal igno- 
rance or incorrigible stupidity. Shall I add to the list 
those apostates from Christianity, who, though bred in 
evangeHcal churches, never felt the power of grace, 
smarted under correction of their secret sins, found it 
their interest to prove that the murderer and the demon 
should be happy in heaven, kicked at the goads of re- 
proof and overleaped the fence of mystery ; the renegade 
Christians, who have betaken themselves to a scheme as 
much Mohammedan as Christian, to a Scripture with- 
out infallible truth, to a Cross without expiation, to a 
salvation without Christ ? From any, from all of these, 
we reject the profier of ostentatious aid. We would 
gladly give them of our stores ; but save us from their 
patronage ! Not by such attestation is heavenly Wisdom 
justified. 

There is something like pusillanimity in the warmth 
with which certain professors of Christianity chuckle over 
every little good word doled forth in its behalf by men 
who scarcely k^ow its tenets, and live in defiance of its 
commands ; v/hile the same weak friends of the cause 
overlook the testimony of miUions, who have best known 
the reality of refigion because they experienced it, and 
have yielded the strongest attestation by adhering to 
the faith. Infidelity shows no such throng of believers, 
confessors, dying saints and martyrs, as, with perpetual 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 335 

augmentation, have been avowing, age after age, the 
power of grace. These, these are the witnesses. When, 
with nervous trepidation, distrustful of your own cause, 
you betake you to the others, and pick up the paltry 
concessions of deists and heretics, it is as if you should 
call in a chance New Zealander or Esquimaux, who had 
descried the distant smoke of a propeller on his waste 
seas, to gain his testimony concerning the existence and 
value of a steam navigation which iills our harbour. 
Let them testify of what they know ; of our heavenly 
Wisdom they know as little as " the eagle, and the ossi- 
frage, and the ospray, and the owl," unclean buds all, 
sweeping over the desert where the tabernacle reposed, 
knew of the awful contents of the ark of the covenant. 
The testimony which such people give to religion, taken 
with its accompaniments, is often as horrible as it is 
ridiculous. A miserable suicide leaves his judgment 
that the Bible is true. The most misanthropic of all 
sensualists, Rousseau, to his elegant but poisonous con- 
fessions of lust and lying, adds a tribute to Jesus 
Clirist, whom he prefers, marvellous complaisance, to 
Socrates 1 It is about a hundred years since Earl Fer- 
rers, an English nobleman, was carried to the scaffold 
for his second mm-der. On his way the minister of re- 
ligion tendered to him the admonitions and consolations 
which it is usual for aristocratic and plebeian felons to 
receive ; but the school which taught him murder had 
also taught him deism : he haughtily rejected the good 
offices. But then, not to be too cruelly grand, and as if 
25 



386 BELIETERS ARE WITNESSES. 

to spare the humbled feelings of Christianity, he deigned 
to say, that he beUeved in a God, and that he had 
always thought the Lord's Prayer a useful compo- 
sition.* Such is the commendation which some are 
fain to chronicle, from the condescending admissions of 
absurd and immoral men. Let all such lie silent in 
theh^ original worthlessness, while a healtliful love of 
truth leads us to suspect and avoid organs to which the 
light of noon is repugnant. We do not require the 
tardy, reluctant tribute of minds which still reject our 
heavenly Master. Pilate and even Judas may yield 
testimony to innocence, and we own the power of con- 
science ; bat it is to the faitliful eleven that Jesus says, 
"Ye shall be my witnesses." And this leads me to 
turn suddenly from the false witnesses to the true ; from 
those who yield a reluctant, insufficient and insincere 
testimony, to those who speak in honom- of the truth 
with heartiness and acclamation ; from outside lookers-on 
to beUeving inmates and loving children. Let us, then, 
reflect on the meaning of these words which the Lord 
addresses to his people : Ye are my witnesses. 

The truth to be considered and apphed is, that all 
true Christians are witnesses for God. And here it is 
hardly requisite to premise, that there is a sense in 
which God asks no attestation. He is himself the in- 
finite source of all authority and the fountain of honom\ 
Were all systems of planets, with all their inhabitants, 
and every thinking, active creature, smitten and turned 

* Walpole's Letters. 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 337 

back into nothing, the self-existent, independent Jeho- 
vali would stm be glorious, in the mutual comprehen- 
sion of the Divine Persons, to all eternity. But the 
Most High, in the communicative flowing out of his 
love, has come forth in creation, for the very purpose of 
reflecting his rays upon the intelligent moral beings 
whom he formed by his power. Of all it may be said, 
" For thy glory they are, and were created." Of human 
subjects God declares : " This people have I formed for 
myself, they shall show forth my praise." Such is the 
grand intention of the method of grace. Souls are 
saved, that they may eternally laud and magnify the 
riches of divine excellency ; '' that he might make known 
the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he 
had afore prepared unto glory." Salvation, when con- 
summate, will prove to have had this end, the exhibi- 
tion of wisdom, power and love ; " that in the ages to 
come, he might show the exceeding riches of his grace 
in his kindness toward us, through Christ Jesus." In- 
deed, this reverberation of God's praise is the office of 
all creatures, animate and inanimate, being what is fitly 
named his declarative glory. And all this declaration, 
whether vocal or silent, may be considered as a witness- 
bearing, which has this pre-eminence in children of 
God, that it is the tribute of holy love and gratitude. 
Every true behever, then, is a witness for God. In time 
and in eternity, he is a lamp kindling into brighter and 
yet brighter flame, in the sanctuary of his Lord. Early 
in his ministry, our Master taught this to his disciples : 



388 BELIEVERS ARE WITJSTESSES. 

" Ye are the light of the world ; " " Shine/' and " Glo- 
rify your Pather which is in heaven." Por this very 
purpose of bearing witness to the truth every believer 
was first called. And as Jesus, the Messiah, the elect 
of God, is the Chief Witness and pre-eminent glorifier 
of God, so all the members of this Head and followers 
of this leader, render a testimony according to their 
respective positions. " Ye are my witnesses, saith the 
Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen." But this 
testimony to God and his truth must not be left in its 
generality, but traced out a little further into some of 
its branching exemplifications ; in order that we may 
see how complete, irrefragable and glorious is the wit- 
ness borne to revelation and the gospel. True behevers, 
then, are -witnesses for God, by their believing, their 
profession, their example, and their suffering. 

1. By their BELIEVING. To believe God's words 
is the very first act of adherence. Here the vital con- 
nexion is formed with God incarnate. At this point 
the rebel wheels into the ranks of service. The erring 
orb tm-ns its lately darkened side towards the Sun of 
righteousness. Wliat though the act be inward and 
invisible ? God reads his own inscription on the soul : 
and who shall say that it is not read by higher created 
intelligences ? Even among men, this light is not placed 
within the crystal globe of a soul to remain unseen. 
Acceptance of truth, especially of Jesus, the primeval 
truth, is inferior to no act of homage which the creature 
ever puts forth during all the career of grace. The chief 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. ggO 

attestation given by any man is himself to believe. He 
" settetli to his seal/' that God is true ; he witnesses. 
It is his endorsement, or subscription. He avouches 
God to be his God, and passes over to his side. This 
is introduced allusively a few verses later : xliv. 5 : " One 
shall say, I am the Lord's, and another shall call himself 
by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe 
with his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by 
the name of Israel." He who has faith in the Gospel 
thereby becomes a witness for Christ. It is by the 
Spirit in the soul that believers are enabled to say : 
" And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent 
the Son to be the Saviour of the world." 

2. Believers are witnesses for God, by means oe 
THEIR PROFESSION. Tliis is literal, positive, and open 
witness -bearing. In Scripture it is often called confes- 
sion, and those who brave perils in making this avowal 
are named confessors. " With the heart man believeth 
unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is 
made unto salvation." In early times it was often, as in- 
deed it sometimes is with us, a joint attestation, a '' good 
confession," before many witnesses. This comes home 
tenderly to all such as have lately taken God to be their 
God, and sat down among his people. They then and 
there stood forth as witnesses. To this Paul alludes, 
saying, " Let us hold fast the profession [joint attesta- 
tion] of om^ faith without wavering." All professing 
Christians since the world began have been so many 
witnesses for the Christian system. They voluntarily 



390 BELIEYERS ARE WITNESSES. 

come out from the world and take their position on the 
Lord's side. They avouch the Lord to be their God, 
and Jesus Christ to be their leader and captain of sal- 
vation. Of this testimony they are not ashamed. If 
rehgion is unpopular, and strict Christians in a minority ; 
if social persecution, in the way of ridicule and calumny, 
arises ; if false opinions, called Hberal, but savouring of 
perverse progress, erroneous and heretical, have currency 
and sit in the heights of fashion; if consequently it 
costs something to be a disciple, and the professor must 
often be singular, conspicuous, and solitary; none of 
these things move him. As a witness would go into 
court joyfully and with open face to attest the character 
of a father or a friend, though all the world were on the 
other side, so the Clnristian is ready to stand up for his 
Redeemer. There is even a glorying, in the ingenuous 
soul, when adherence to a friend and vindication of a 
righteous cause involve some peril or obloquy. The 
majority of you, my brethren, are called to profess the 
name of Jesus, in a much more quiet and secure way. 
You rather gain than lose by appearing as Christians. 
Very different is your condition from that of early be- 
lievers, who often signed their own death-warrant when 
they owned Christ before men. But you do as really 
^Aitness for God, when you come into the fellowship of 
saints, and show the Lord's death till he come. 

3. Disciples are witnesses for God by their example. 
Actions speak loudly for any cause. " By this," said 
our Saviour, " shall aU men know that ye are my dis- 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 39^ 

ciples, if ye keep my commandments." It is by letting 
om* liglit shine that we glorify oux Pather which is in 
heaven. No words, however well chosen, repeated or 
earnest, no professions, however public, can avail so 
much for the honour of Christianity, as a pm^e and con- 
sistent life. In the early progress of the Gospel, this 
was the attestation which first struck, then attracted, 
and eventually convinced the Gentile observer. The 
truth, the peacefulness, the meekness, the fraternal affec- 
tion, the charity of the new sect, won its way to the 
moral approbation even of enemies. This is a species 
of testimony wliich, from its nature, is continually on 
the increase. The more wide our field of observation 
and the closer our scrutiny, the more will instances of 
moral excellence, as fruits of faith in Christ, brighten 
on our vision, as new tracts of stars come into view in 
galaxies and nebulae, under the penetrative power of 
the telescope. All believers are thus God's witnesses, 
by a holy life ; and this to the confounding of infidel- 
ity, which can show no such seals. Our very familiar- 
ity with this class of facts deadens our susceptibility 
to their just force. We almost weary of seeing men 
made better by Christianity. But let us see how the 
account will read, if we reverse the statement, and 
imagine such things recorded of infidelity. Let me 
feign the history of such inverted revival, thus : A man 
well known as a liar, swindler, and profane swearer, 
has lately been convinced of the falsity of the Christian 
religion, and has consequently abandoned aU his evil 



392 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 

courses. A riotous, drunken ruffian, the scourge of his 
family and terror of his neighbourhood, has lately be- 
come quiet, pure, and temperate, and has closed his den 
of madness, all as the fruit of Deism, to which he has 
been converted. Two miserable debauchees ascribe 
their return to a hfe of virtue to having embraced the 
doctrine of universal salvation, and express great com- 
fort in the behef that Judas Iscariot passed immediately 
into glory. An entire community has just sustained a 
transformation from litigious conflict and angry feud to 
concord and humanity, from yielding to the belief that 
there is no God. — You are startled, my brethren, and 
justly. Infidelity bears no such fmit and summons no 
such witnesses ; while the religion of the Bible exhibits 
them mth miiformity, splendour, and incalculable ex- 
tent. 

4. True Christians are witnesses for God by their 
SUFFERINGS. All Christian sufi'ering is a kind of mt- 
ness-bearing. It is the greatest consolation of saints 
under heavy trials, in long debilitating illnesses, and 
those retu'ements and straits which forbid active service, 
that they are all the while passively serving. Under 
the Cross they bear Tvitness of God ; attesting his jus- 
tice, his faithfulness, his power, his wisdom, his cove- 
nant-gentleness ; they bear witness of Jesus, that he 
hears the sigh of the humble, distils the dew of his 
grace, sustains the fainting head with his arm, tranquil- 
lizes and elevates by his Spirit, and shows himself alto- 
gether lovely. Suffering is witness-bearing, believer, 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 393 

when under pangs, or in painless intervals, when the 
clammy moisture and heaving breast and languid eye 
betray the wresthng just past, you are permitted and 
prompted to honour yom^ God and Saviour. Not only 
men, but angels, nay God himself, regard such endu- 
rance, even in a single case ; what shall we say of the 
gathering myriads, who for ages have been coming lout 
of great tribulation, and ascending to the white robes 
and triumphal palaces of Zion? "Ye are my wit- 
nesses," will the King say to such, but especially to 
those who shall have sealed the confession of the truth 
with their own blood. Let not the overstrained eulogy 
and superstitious veneration of these by a corrupt 
Church lead us to deny the value of their testimony. 
A witi^ess is called in Greek a martyr. We have bor- 
rowed the word, and made it sacred in our own tongue ; 
for though it appears only twice in om^ version, in ap- 
plication to Stephen and Antipas, the very same word 
occurs repeatedly and is in the Greek translation of 
our text. " The noble army of martyrs " praise God, 
and should not be forgotten of men. Among external 
evidences, these avowals of men, who, at the risk of 
every thing earthly, and in contempt of every favour 
and reward, owned Clnist at the stake, or in the face of 
ravenous beasts, abide conspicuous. In regard to the 
miracles of Christ and his apostles, as well as to the 
predictions uttered by these and afterwards fulfilled, 
the attestations of such original witnesses, at the instant 
of martyrdom, are beyond all price. We are forced to 



394 belie\t:rs are witnesses. 

believe them. Every law of evidence and every prin- 
ciple of human natm^e must be violated, before we can 
doubt the numerous concmTent uncontradicted testi- 
monies of those who could not have been mistaken, and 
who would not in such perils have deceived. All an- 
tiquity shows that the witness-bearing of both classes 
haA-a mighty effect in commanding the credence of Jews 
and Gentiles, on the spot and at the time. Nor was the 
validity of the miracles which were thus attested left to be 
settled by the intrinsic evidence of the truth which such 
miracles confirmed. Tliis opinion, which has trickled 
in upon our theology from the corrupt springs of Ger- 
man latitudinarianism, and which would prove miracle 
by doctrine rather than doctrine by miracle, belongs to 
a system which, speciously gaining over our younger 
scholars, is carrying them over by squadrons to the 
camp of rationalism. The late eminently philosophical 
statesman, Mr. Gallatin, once said to me, alluding to 
the lax opinions of certain erroneous teachers : " They 
say, we beheve in s^ite of the miracles ; but I say I 
beheve because of the miracles." And when we accredit 
the early martyrs and confessors, we build on the mira- 
cles and other supernatural sanctions which constitute 
the ground course of the evidential wall. To which we 
add, in another sense, all the suffering and dying wit- 
nesses of later ages. 

Behold here, my brethren, in the faintest outhne, 
something of the testimony which God receives from 
his people. To tJiem you must go, if you would learn 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 395 

the grounds and import of Cliristianity. Only they 
can say, " We speak that which we know, and testify 
that we have seen." They can tell of a Saviour who has 
proved himself sufficient iu the day of trial, who has 
lifted them out of the swoon of despair, and breathed 
rapture into them with the kiss of peace. Their lan- 
guage will naturally be, Come and hear what the Lord 
hath done for our souls. They are not reluctant wit- 
nesses, but long for opportunities to report the great- 
ness of the Divine love. Their number is incalculable. 
In all human tongues these attestations will be given. 
Out of all kindreds and peoples they wiU flock in con- 
course to the green and fragrant banks of the River of 
Life, to renew, amplify, and perpetuate that testimony 
which they began below. Go to them, ye doubters, and 
not to the ignorant and deluded sons of philosophy, 
falsely so called ; go to them, and accept their record. 
They know that these things are so. They have be- 
lieved ; and beheving have had the spirit of adoption. 
The things of reUgion are reahties, ascertained to them 
by an infalhble consciousness. It is the certainty of 
their assmmice which gives earnestness to their unani- 
mous declaration. 

And ye, my fellow-mtn esses for God, consider whom 
you attest, and what the office you discharge. The 
voice which shakes heaven and earth, says, " Ye are my 
witnesses ! " Let the solemn vocation penetrate, and 
the heavenly sanction overshadow your minds; let other 
duties, callings, and privileges be merged in this. Look- 



396 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 

ing back on all the way in wMcli tlie Lord has led you, 
must not you speak good of his name ? Love should 
constrain you to testify that nothing has failed of all 
that was promised. But you live in the midst of a 
crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine 
as Hp;hts in the world. Let the li2:ht be brilliant and 
unmistakable. Hold it high, so that none need ever 
ask twice whether you ate on the Lord's side or not. 
However ardent may be the professions of some, at a 
season of general awakening, and how firm soever their 
attachment to Christ's church and ministers, observa- 
tion shows that time works marvellous changes in 
stony-ground hearers. Such were the Galatians ; warm 
converts, strenuous adherents, eager witnesses for a 
while. But hsten how Paul addresses them : " Where 
is, then, the blessedness ye spake of? for I bear you 
record, that if it had been possible, ye would have 
plucked out your own eyes and have given them to me." 
Life, entne life, beloved servants of my Lord, is a period 
of mtnessing. By act, by omission, by speech, by 
silence, whether you will or not, you are forever testify- 
ing. Hour by hour you are testifying, sometimes 
much more loudly than by words, either for or against 
your Master. You are doing that which leads others 
to conclude, either that Christ affords a satisfying por- 
tion, or that his service is annoying and wearisome. 
Here, surromided by the partners of a common hope, 
and supported by a pubhc opinion which honours the 
Gospel, you are prompt to appear on the side of truth. 



BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 397 

It costs no sacrifice of profit, ease, or good name. But 
change tlie scene ; go among the wicked, or even the 
gay. Enter the smnmer circle, at public resorts, where 
strict conformity to God's law is unknown ; and allow 
me to ask, is your mind made up to be a witness for 
yom- Redeemer there also ? Are you likely to be firm 
for Christ, when all the tide of opinion, business, 
pleasure, runs the other way ; when to be a consistent 
disciple is to be pointed at and shunned ; and when 
yom^ testimony may be as unwelcome as it is solitary ? 
For such Christianity, you need a courage which will 
never come to you except upon your knees. Though 
left as solitary as was your Lord, and like him beset 
with false witnesses, if you only have his Spirit, if his 
life flows into you, if, beheving on and clinging to him, 
you have inward pulses which keep time with his heart ; 
you will stand in the evil day, you will win souls, you 
will recommend the Gospel, you will live teaching and 
die witnessing. Amen. 



XVIIl. 



THE CHUKCH A TEMPLE. 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE * 



1 Petee ii. 5. 
" Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house." 

It is difficult, if not impossible, for us to enter into 
the feelings of an ancient Israelite in regard to the 
temple at Jerusalem ; yet unless we do so in some de- 
gree, we must lose the force of numerous figures in the 
New Testament, which seized upon the imagination of 
the Jew. To him, that structure was the best of all 
terrestrial things. It was at once the citadel of his 
commonwealth and the sanctuary of his Church. To 
this spot his face was turned in devotion, wherever he 
might wander on the earth's surface. Its walls con- 
tained all that he held most splendid in ceremonial and 
most sacred in mystery. In some sense it was the 

* New York, April 3, 1854. 
26 



402 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

centre, not of Palestine only, but of the world, for his 
Lord had said, " My house shall be called a house of 
prayer for all nations." Its pomps and praises, the 
volume of its harmonies both vocal and instrumental, its 
bleeding and smoking propitiations, its odorous clouds 
of incense, its ablutions and sprinklings, its throngs of 
exalted worshippers, its festive processions, and its inac- 
cessible mysterious shrine, all conspii-ed to give it a 
hold on his admiration and his affections, such as no 
other material structure ever gained over human hearts. 
Hence the most available charge against om' Lord Jesus, 
and that which was best fitted to make the populace 
infuriate, was that he had spoken contemptuously of the 
holy fabric. It was not unnatural, that in a period of 
formal religion, the minds of the people should have 
become knit to the external pile. No gleam of its 
higher mystery and spiritual intention had yet broken 
upon theu' worldly minds. Not yet had it been re- 
vealed that God is a Spirit, and that they who worship 
him must worship him in spirit and in truth, any- 
where, everywhere, and not at Jerusalem or this moun- 
tain. And yet, from the beginning, God had been pre- 
paring his Church for better things, by means of this 
nsible type, and clearing the way for the setting up of 
a house not made with hands. Even in the rudest 
stages of rehgious discipline, aU that is outward, palpa- 
ble or formal, is in its nature temporary, and is used to 
symbolize something greater and loveher, beyond the 
domain of sense. The day was rapidly approaching 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 



403 



when this glorious architecture should be given to the 
flames, and when Israel should be without an earthly 
sanctuary. The vanishing of the typical system was 
foreshown, when the vail of the temple was rent in twain 
from the top to the bottom. Shortly after this, the 
Church began to take its new and Christian form. But 
those who came under this New Testament influence 
from out of Judaism, were steeped in associations de- 
rived from Hebrew rites. The apostles, therefore, 
themselves Jews, found it natural and important to ad- 
dress them in terms derived from the old economy; 
and hence we find no figures more abundant than those 
which are derived from the temple and its rites. In 
this instance, the mind of the apostle Peter, fuU of the 
strains of Old Testament psalmody, thinks of his adora- 
ble Redeemer as predicted in the 118th Psalm. The 
words of David are : " The stone which the builders 
refused is become the head stone of the corner." All 
in a glow with the image, his imagination under divine 
influence, proceeds to carry up a spiritual structure on 
this foundation, and to fill it with a worshipping spir- 
itual Israel. So he breaks forth ; " To whom commg, 
as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but 
chosen of God and precious, ye also as lively stones are 
built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer 
up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God by Jesus 
Christ." The warmth of Oriental style does not shrink 
from all that our severer rules might regard as a mix- 
tm^e of metaphors. The rapid transition of mind here 



404 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

certainly gives origin to a double figure ; for the same 
persons who in one clause are called the temple, are in 
the next represented as the worshippers. Both temple 
and worshippers, in the type, were intended to show 
forth the Church of God, or the entire body of sanctified 
believers. From these words, therefore, I would invite 
you to consider with me the Church of the Lord Jesus 
Christ as a temple. 

1. It is a SPIRITUAL HOUSE. The apostle Paul 
speaks of a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens. Here also we may say with him, " that was 
not first which was spiritual, but that which is natm-al, 
and afterwards that which is spiritual/' Such is the 
order of divine revelation to the human mind. We 
are led from the material to the immaterial. Common 
apprehensions fail to reach this ; and there are many 
who never get beyond that which can be seen and felt. 
But in proportion as we gain insight into God's plan 
and are elevated by faith, we learn to value the things 
unseen, and awake to the knowledge of a vast and glo- 
rious spiritual universe, of which all that surrounds us 
is but the husk and emblem. Our Lord was continually 
engaged in lifting the minds of his disciples from all 
the glory of then- darhng shrine, to the wonders of an 
imperishable house. You remember that when they 
would have attracted his admiration to the buildings of 
the temple, he replied, " See ye not all these things ? 
Verily I say unto you, there shall not be left here one 
stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down." 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4Q5 

All was to make way for a masterpiece of spiritual 
architecture, which only the wise and the beheving have 
eyes to behold. 

2. It is very obvious that, of this spiritual temple, 
the " BUILDER AND MAKER IS GoD." It is for his glory 
and for his residence. The plan and the execution are 
his. In all ages of the world his eye has contemplated 
this structure, and his arm is carrying it forward. In 
the spiritual temple, God is pre-eminently doing his own 
work ; manifesting his own perfections ; exalting created 
intelligences to purity and happiness ; and producing 
those heavenly virtues which are more precious than all 
the marble, gold, and gems of the earth, and which are 
wrought only by the Spirit of holiness. 

3. Yet this spiritual temple, reared by the hand of 
the infinite Spirit, is nevertheless no shadowy edifice. It 
is in a high sense real, being composed of human be- 
ings. Angels may contemplate the work and aid in 
it, but they form no part of it. " Ye," says our apostle 
to Christians, " ye, as lively (that is, living, animated) 
stones, are built up a spiritual house." Such is the 
value and dignity of a human soul, made in the image 
of God, redeemed by the Son, and dwelt in by the 
Spirit, that there is a consummate glory in a structure 
of which every component part is such a soul. In other 
places, the individual believer is represented as a temple 
of God ; but here, by a change of figure, which beauti- 
fully and expressively brings forward the fellowship, 
multitude and union of believers, the whole are set be- 



406 ^HE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

fore us as compacted into one perfect structure. The 
stones are no longer masses of granite, marble or por- 
phyry, but men, redeemed and sanctified, and here- 
after to be perfected and glorified. Every saint has his 
appointed place. The temple comprises all the righteous, 
who have been, are, and shall be to the end of time. 
We often think of believers, as separate existences, and 
sometimes of the Church on earth at a particular time ; 
but we must also rise to the contemplation of the com- 
plete body, in which not one true servant of God is 
wanting, from righteous Abel to the last who shall be 
summoned to glory by the final trump. 

4. The temple has a foundation. We need not 
wander far to find what it is. " Behold, I lay in Zion 
a chief corner-stone, elect, precious." " Other founda- 
tions can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus 
Christ." " Built upon the foundation of the apostles 
and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cor- 
ner stone, in whom all the building fitly framed together 
groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord, in whom ye 
also are builded. together for an habitation of God 
through the Spirit." It was meet that the Son of God 
should take humanity, in order that he might be the 
foundation of this human temple. It rests on him, for 
its coherence, beauty, grandeur and very existence. Its 
walls are cemented by his precious blood. Every lively 
stone in the pile bears his image, and is fashioned after 
the head stone of the corner. His truth is the basis of 
aU faith in the Church. His righteousness is the ground 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4Q7 

of all pardon, acceptance, and title to life. His Spirit 
prepares and adorns each individual member, brings 
him into the structm'e and keeps him there. Each 
soul, and all conjoined, rest and rely on Jesus Christ 
alone, as the source of strength, union, and perfection. 
The whole heavenly architectm^e is of him and for him, 
and his divine virtue is felt in every part of it, from the 
base to the summit. 

5. The work of rearing this temple is now going 
ON upon earth. This is expressly said by Peter: " To 
whom coming, as hving stones, ye also are built up ; " 
that is, ye are now in the very process of being built 
up a spiritual house. It may be affirmed that our 
sinful world is permitted to remain chiefly, if not solely, 
for this very purpose, that the work of the living temple 
may go on. When a wise architect is about to frame a 
great edifice, he selects his site, designs his plan, and 
gathers his materials. From the guilty race of Adam 
God is perpetually choosing and calling those who shaU 
be the living stones in his temple. Though the con- 
summation is to be in another state, the busy process of 
preparation and erection is in this. When the temple 
of Solomon was to be reared, what hewings, shaping and 
transportation of cedars in the forests of Lebanon ; what 
excavations in the quarries of the vale ; what castings in 
the plain of Zarthan ; what moulding and carving of 
gold and silver among the artificers of Israel. All was 
lookmg towards the going up of the stately walls upon 
Moriah, without the sound of axe or hammer. Thus may 



408 T^^ CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

we gain an emblem of what is now in process among 
ourselves. Our state is altogether preparatory. Nothing 
has yet taken its real shape. All that we call the work 
of religion or of the Gospel among men, is only the 
getting out of the material, or the building of it into its 
place. Forgetting this, we frequently judge amiss of 
all that God is doing, and " quite mistake the scaffold 
for the pile." No mse critic will judge of a half-finished 
architecture. At such a stage much is temporary, much 
is obscure, all is incomplete. The beautiful idea of the 
artist lies hidden among a chaos of platforms, engines, 
and heaps of rubbish. Such is precisely the condition 
of the Church below. It is at best but a small part of 
the entire structure, which belongs to all ages, and 
which is to see an age when behevers shall be increased, 
perhaps, as a thousand to one. Much that we behold 
is, after all, only scaffolding that shall be removed, or 
nibbish that shall be cast away. But meanwhile the 
work is going forward, and the walls, however slowly, 
are rising. Every thing in God's providence respecting 
the present world is made to lead to this. All preach- 
ing of the Word, diffusion of truth, conversion of sin- 
ners, and edification of saints, are means in God's hands 
for carrying up his structure. Prophets and apostles 
are humble instruments in the work. Thus Paul, a 
wise master-builder, says : " Ye are God's building. I 
have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. 
Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that 
the Spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man defile 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4Qg 

the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the tem- 
ple of God is holy, which temple are ye." 

6. But we must go further. Not only is the work 
going on, but under the mighty hand of God the pro- 
cess is so conducted by the wise position, due adjust- 
ment, and manifold mutual relations of all the parts, as 
to procure that symmetry and perfection which is one 
day to be the admiration of the universe, who will see 
in it the brightest display op the Divine perpections. 
The plan is perfect, and, unlike human plans, is carried 
out with the absence of all defect and error. Prom the 
massive foundation to the humblest interior appendage, 
all belongs to one perfect draught ; all exhibits one sub- 
lime idea. Every stone, timber, moulding, surface, tint 
and pinnacle, is just what was designed, in its proper 
place and just connexion. In every well-ordered build- 
ing, there are parts which could not be anywhere else, 
without being useless, offensive, or hm^tful. So in the 
" spiritual house," each of the " lively stones " is laid 
according to God's infallible design ; each soul is built 
into its proper niche, each Christian that is born into 
the world appears at the right time and place, if not for 
his own highest exaltation and reward, yet for the grand 
result of the Divine fabric. Each has a fixed relation 
to all the rest, but chiefly to those which he nearest. 
Of all the mihions of converted souls, there is not one 
which has not his office and function in the extensive 
scheme; and though, strictly speaking, the Creator 
cannot be said to need any of his creatures, yet in 



410 THE CHUKCH A TEMPLE. 

reference to the execution of his plan, each individual is 
demanded for the very position which he occupies. The 
structure does not rise " like an exhalation," suddenly 
and all at once, but by slow degrees. The times for 
each successive development in the Church are ordered 
by an infinite AVisdom; and while our impatience 
murmurs at the tardiness of Him with whom " a thou- 
sand years are as one day," every revolution, persecu- 
tion, reformation and revival, falls out exactly at its 
predetermined instant, while ''the building groweth 
unto a holy temple in the Lord." As part answers to 
part by a felicitous arrangement, each member con- 
tributes its appropriate service. The truth of God and 
the graces of his Spirit pervade the whole j and the 
religious advancement of the humblest behever tends to 
the general end ; for every part is connected with Christ, 
" from whom the whole body, fitly joined together and 
compacted by that which every joint suppHeth, accord- 
ing to the effectual working in the measure of every 
part, maketh increase of the body, imto the edifying 
of itself in love." Our views are necessarily Hmited to 
the growth of the Church in om^ o^vn particular age, 
and even this demands a scope of observation wider 
than is given to most ; but the Infinite Mind takes in 
the lapse of ages, contemplates periods yet more aston- 
isliing than any which have revolved, and sees the mag- 
nificent spiritual house, going up in stately proportions 
through them all. 

As each renewed soul is just that which God has 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4II 

made it, born in tlie country and tlie age wliich lie 
foreknew, trained by providences which he designed, 
and removed to the upper world at his good pleasm^e, 
we may rest assured that Divine skill will never want 
proper instruments, and that no vacuity will exist in 
those temple-chambers, for lack of men or talents, when 
their hour has come. In surveying the past, we observe 
a beautiful fitness and an enchanting variety in the ma- 
terials which have been already built into that part of 
the edifice which has thus far been reared. Howunhke 
the corps of prophets to the corps of apostles ; and how 
unlike the several individuals of each. We have Scrip- 
ture authority for placing these among the most honour- 
able and sustaining parts of the fabric, near the corner- 
stone; for we are "built upon the foundation of the 
apostles and prophets." Isaiah with his evangehc 
clarion, Jeremiah with his pastoral reed of sorrows, and 
David with his many-voiced harp, sometimes loud in 
notes of triumph and sometimes subdued to the voice 
of weeping, stand out with a marked individuahty which 
becomes the more surprising, the more nearly we ex- 
amine the distinctive features. They may be hkened to 
those immense but goodly stones, carried up in com-ses, 
along the precipitous side of the vaUey, to form the 
bases for the temple of Solomon. The twelve apostles, 
including the last and, hmnanly speaking, the greatest, 
though brethren, how unlike! Who, for an instant, 
could mistake Paul for Peter, or either of them for 
John ? They occupy sahent angles of the great foun- 



412 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

dation, and Ke nearest to tlie comer-stone, elect and 
precious. Some of their brethren, though not visible 
in the front which meets our eye, may have done equal 
service in the bearing up of the mass. Martyrs and 
confessors found their place, in succeeding ages, as the 
wall advanced ; some as glorious for ornament as strong 
for use. When love needed a signal display, amidst 
the blood of martyrdom, we see it immortaHzed in an 
Ignatius and a Polycarp. When stalking heresy needed 
a front of steel to stand unmoved against all its columns, 
we find an ^'Athanasius against the world." When 
the language of Greece is to be elevated to new dignity 
by conveying the wonders of Christianity, we hear the 
golden eloquence of a Basil and a Chrysostom. When 
Roman philosophy had died out of the world, we behold 
it revived in an Augustine, the father of the fathers. 
Later do\ATi in ages, we catch ghmpses even amidst 
Romish corruptions of a Bernard and a Kempis. The 
note of alarm is given to a sleeping carnal church, first 
by Wiclif, Huss and Jerome, then by Zwingle, Luther, 
Calvin, and Knox. But time would fail me, should I 
try to illustrate by particular instances the truth, that 
in God's building every variety of temper, genius, and 
talent finds its place, and that heavenly wisdom will 
never suffer any want of material for the sacred walls. 
Let it be for the encouragement of such among us as 
are conscious of no high powers, and who sometimes 
wonder for what service in Christ's Church we are fit, 
that in a great structure all the component portions are 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4^3 

not equally great. There is not only tlie solid and the 
costly, the rock and timber ; not only the precious and 
ornamental, the gold and silver ; but likewise the hum- 
ble and subsidiary, yea, even the otherwise valueless and 
the minute; for not even mortar and earth can be 
spared from the construction. The Great Builder has 
some lowly crevice in his house, which the meanest and 
feeblest of us may occupy. We may not be called to 
bear up buttresses, or to crown turrets, or to adorn the 
carved work of the sanctuary ; but it should satisfy us, 
if in some remote recess and unknown shade, we fulfil 
the office which the Master has laid upon us. 

The building of God, compared with which all hu- 
man enterprises and structures are as nothing, goes on 
in a manner unobserved by men, in a mysterious silence, 
though often amidst surrounding turmoil and alarms. 
Divine Providence can turn to its own account events 
the most untoward and convulsions the most appalling. 
The blood of martyrs was the seed of the Church. The 
irruption over the Greek and Roman nations of the 
great barbaric hordes from the Indo- Germanic stock, 
laid open the way for the coalescence of Christianity 
with a new social and pohtical element, to which we 
owe our language, our laws, our freedom, and om* 
modem civihzation. We read that the second temple 
went up " in troublous times." The wall of the Chris- 
tian fabric has done so too. Dreadful and sinful as 
wars are, they are instruments in God's hand ; and when 
we hear the hurtle of arms and the shriek of battle- 



414 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

fields, we may consider that Jehovah has not forgotten 
his temple ; these sounds are but the blasts of his 
quarry or the crash of cedars in his forest of Lebanon. 
The conquests of Charlemagne and his successors car- 
ried the Gospel, more or less purely, into regions 
hitherto pagan. That great event of our day, as yet 
partially understood — ^the revolution in China — ^how- 
ever it may result, shows how easily the high wall of 
separation might be broken down and the triumphant 
standards of Christianity carried in. And that great 
European conflict, for the crisis of which the whole 
civiHzed world is now waiting with breathless expecta- 
tion, direful as must be its proximate effect, will un- 
doubtedly in some way tend to the upbuUding of 
Christ's kingdom. " Surely the wrath of man shall 
praise thee; the remainder of Avrath shalt thou re- 
strain." 

7. The hving temple is to have an extension and 
GLORY, even on our earth, such as has never yet been 
attained. How far the walls have thus far risen no man 
is competent to declare. But the work is daily ad- 
vancing. Wiatever some may find it convenient to 
assert, in favour of darling hypotheses, rehgion is in pro- 
gress. To go no further back than the beginning of 
this century, which has been the era of Bible and Mis- 
sionary associations and triumphs, we see an undeniable 
extension of the Christian area on earth. But the 
Scripture abounds with declarations of a latter day, the 
glory of which is yet future. '' In the last days it shall 



THE CHUKCH A TEMPLE. 4^5 

come to pass, that the mountain of the Lord's house shall 
be estabhshed in the top of the mountains, and it shall 
be exalted above the hills ; and people shall flow unto 
it. And many nations shall come and say, Come and 
let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the 
house of the God of Jacob." In a great edifice, the 
later stages of construction are those which most reveal 
the beauty of the conception. Therefore God addresses 
his Chm-ch : " The glory of Lebanon shall come unto 
thee, the fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box together, 
to beautify the place of my sanctuary ; and I mil make 
the place of my feet glorious." Hasten on, O blessed 
day, when the resplendent towers of Zion shall catch the 
rising beams of the returning Sun of righteousness ! 

8. But let me not longer detain you from the 
truth, that for the completion of the living temple we 
must look to THE HEAVENLY STATE. Scripturc mcta- 
phors and simihtudes must not be so pressed as to 
urge a meaning out of every particular, nor must we be 
surprised if the parable does not show a perfect exact- 
ness in all its subdivisions. It has been said long ago, 
that similes and what they represent are often like 
circles ; they touch only in a single point. If therefore 
we have thus far considered the spiritual house as going 
up in this world, we may by a sHght variation of the 
image regard it still more precisely as attaining its real 
form and finish in the world to come. In tliis view, aU 
that takes place here below is but the preparation of 
materials, the selection of the hvely stones and the 



&» 



416 THE CHURCH A TEj\IPLE. 

goodly cedars, tlie excavation, hewing, felling, squaring 
shaping and polishing ; in expectation of being trans- 
ported to the Jerusalem above. The home of the 
Church is not here. Here we have no continuing city, 
but we seek one to come. At no one period, even the 
brightest before the second coming, are all the members 
of Christ gathered together in one place. We often 
think and speak as if little was accomplished, because 
little is seen on earth. But we forget that only part of 
the living structure is here, and this a small part. 
Every moment, blessed souls, fitted by gracious dis- 
cipline in this vale, by the axe and hammer and furnace 
of trial and the moulding hand of sanctification, are 
carried away in angelic arms, to be placed in the house 
above. This is only the preparatory state. Out of this 
mass God is gathering his elect and taking them to his 
temple. Are there not millions abeady in heaven ? and 
are there not more countless millions yet to be gathered 
thither ? Then, when the last redeemed one shall be 
caught up, to be added to the transcendent pile, " he 
shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, 
crying, Grace, grace unto it ! " In the visions of the 
beloved disciple, we see the figure swelling in ampli- 
tude, and the house becomes a city, " the holy Jerusa- 
lem, descending out of heaven from God, having the 
glory of God, and her hght like unto a stone most 
precious, even like a jasper-stone, clear as crystal ; its 
wall ha^dng twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, 
and names written thereon, which are the names of the 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4]^^ 

twelve tribes of Israel, every several gate of one pearl, 
and tlie street of tlie city pure gold, as it were trans- 
parent glass." 

Let us awake. Christian bretkren, to the reality of a 
spiritual structure, for which such preparations are 
making around us. We are in the midst of the labours 
which are to result in this great monument of divine 
wisdom, power, and love. '\¥hat are our earthly palaces, 
what our civil and military marvels of architecture, 
what om' toils and accumulations, compared with this 
building of God, which is to outlast the world ? The 
people of this world, we know, are absolutely indifferent 
to the temple which is rising. They sneer at it as the 
antediluvians treated the ark ; they are ignorant of it, as 
were the Tyrians and Zidonians of the first temple, even 
while unwittingly they aided it ; or they oppose it, as 
the Samaritans did the second temple. Nevertheless, 
the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, 
the Lord knoweth them that are his. If the house is 
rejected, so was its corner-stone. Still it is ascend- 
ing, and God's purposes are working themselves out. 
There is nothing which we can do in Hfe so important 
as to contribute in some humble measure to the up- 
building of the Church. It is the only work of which 
the fruit cannot be lost. One soul, saved by our means, 
is a living stone added to the edifice. One soul made 
hoher and better through our labours, is a new orna- 
ment to the unseen sanctuary. Not a toil, a self-denial, 
or a tear, shall fail of recognition ; though lost to the 
27 



418 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 

view of men, "" the day -will reveal it." Open the eye 
of faith and behold God's great work of regeneration 
and salvation, which proceeds incessantly and success- 
fully. The question is a solemn one : Am I in this 
temple or out of it? There is no middle ground. 
Have I come to Christ, the chosen precious corner- 
stone ? Am I builded upon his truth, his righteous- 
ness, his person ? Am I in union and communion with 
that multitude of saints, who, as lively stones, are knit 
together indissolubly in this sublime and increasing 
structure ? Have I any good hope, tln-ough grace, 
that I shall be among the constituents of the heavenly 
city ? The answer is important now ; but the day is 
coming, when the answer shall be one of doom ! If 
yea, hft up your head, and bid farewell to every anxious 
thought about inferior things. What are the loss or 
gain, the pam or joy, of threescore years and ten, when 
you look towards the things which are not seen, which 
are eternal ! But if the answer be nay, pause this in- 
stant. All is at stake. Remaining thus without, all is 
lost, and forever. That headstone, however precious to 
them that beheve, is no comer-stone to you ; but *' a 
stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence." "Eor 
whosoever falleth on this stone, shall be broken." Are 
we in our senses? Have men ever heard of their 
danger and their way of escape, that all should lie in 
so profound an apathy? God's temple will still be 
complete and glorious, though you should form no 
part of it. Much that seems (by church profession) to 



THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 43^9 

belong to the structure, is only an appendage or a 
seeming — " wood, hay, stubble." " The day shall declare 
it, for it shall be revealed by fire ; and the fire shall try 
every man's work of what sort it is." And some who 
escape shall " hardly be saved," yea, " saved, so as 
by fire." May God own us, beloved, in. that day! 
Amen. 



XIX 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST * 



PniLIPPIANS iv. 13. 

" I can do all things throngli Christ wliicli strengtheneth me." 

When we consider that, next to that of the Lord 
himself, no biography of the New Testament is so fiiUy 
given as that of the Apostle who uttered these words, 
we are led to infer that his life and character were 
meant to be closely studied, as affording the aid of ex- 
ample and iQcitement in the ordinary course of Cluistian 
duty. The variety of cucumstances in which he is pre- 
sented is remarkable, and gives occasion for the disclo- 
sure of every holy sentiment which belongs to the re- 
newed nature, in its noblest and freest development. 
In his sorrows and his joys, his activity and liis 
restraints, we see in Paul the moving power of an 

* New York, New Year's Day, 1855. 



424 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

inward principle, wliicli overturned and renewed liis 
whole being. Perhaps it is not going too far to say, 
that no mere man ever lived who has operated so exten- 
sively upon Christians in succeeding ages, in the way of 
example. Through him, though compassed about with 
infirmities, God seems to have chosen to show how true 
grace will work in a great diversity of conditions. In 
the Epistle now open before us, he is in those straits 
which sometimes make Christian equanimity difficult in 
our lower degrees of rehgious growth. But the maxim 
whereby he supports himseK is one suited to a more 
general application, and suited like all high comprehen- 
sive truths to every state. The kind gift of his Philip- 
pian brethren had led him to touch dehcately on his 
necessities ; but he checks himself : " Not that I speak 
in respect of want ; for I have learned (rare lesson) in 
whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. (Gen- 
tile philosophy attempted the same result, but without 
success, for want of the principle which we are about 
to consider.) I know both how to be abased, and how 
to abound, (both difficult cases ; for some have fallen by 
prosperity, whom Satan has vainly assaulted while 
poor.) Everywhere and in all things I am instructed 
(or, more exactly, I am initiated as into a mystery) both 
to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to 
suffer need. I can do all things through Christ, which 
strengtheneth me." 

Can there be presented a more appropriate senti- 
ment for the year, or for every year ? 



STEENGTH IN CHRIST. 425 

There is, then, a strength in Christ, which so be- 
comes the strength of the behever, that trusting in his 
Lord he may be equal to every demand of suffering or 
performance. Such is the proposition which I would 
unfold before you. 

You \\all observe in the very expression an avowal 
of weakness. It is unlike the vaunting of Stoics and 
other sages, who, arrogant in their o^vn resolved virtue, 
stood up to cope with every opponent that should 
affront them. Men of this temper abound, and their 
language is lofty. They are in armour of proof, and 
are mighty of will. Their nerve, resolution and purpose 
are not to be thwarted by any difficulty. The pride of 
a heroic morality holds them up. But he that trusteth 
in his own heart is a fool. And we have seen battle- 
fields strewed with the fallen, who have gone to the 
encounter of temptation without the aid of heaven. 
Such a champion, haughty and self-reliant, the youthful 
Saul had been, when his Pharisaic decision sustained 
itseK against the angehc countenance of Stephen and 
the gentle power of Christ. But he had been lowered 
in his tone, that he might be exalted, and softened that 
he might become enduring. He had been brought into 
a conflict, in which he was fain to cry, " I know that 
in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing ; for 
to will is present with me, but how to perform that 
which is good I find not." In the desperation of this 
ordeal, he had burst forth, '' O wretched man that I 
am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? " 



426 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

and rising to life^ as lie beheld Lis deliverer, had sub- 
joined, " I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." 
It was Christ, who was his strength ; and in this per- 
fect and communicable strength, he could do all things. 
Christ strengthened him ; and Christ stands ready to 
strengthen the believer in om- day. 

Here as everywhere in the survey of experience, we 
are made to recognise the beautiful coherence of all 
divine truth, and to perceive how an inward sentiment 
of great value is based upon a solid doctrine of the 
system. The doctrine which acts as pedestal to the 
column, is that of Christ's union as head with the be- 
hever. " The head of every man is Christ." Never 
was this precious doctrine more nobly unfolded or more 
urgently pressed, than in the writings of Paul liimself. 
The acts of the Redeemer are for the redeemed. He 
took their nature, assumed their liabihties, answered for 
their delinquency, procm-ed their pardon, accomplished 
their justification, and abides in connexion with them, 
for all the manifold ends of their salvation. Por them 
he was born, for them he lived, for them he died, for 
them he rose, for them he ascended, for them he inter- 
cedes and reigns. He is made to each of them, Wis- 
dom, Righteousness, Sanctification and Redemption. 
The funded treasmy of his merits, his wisdom and his 
might, are thehs. If he is strong — and " Thou Lord 
in the beginning hast laid the fomidation of the earth, 
and the heavens are the work of thine hands " — it is a 
strength available for the very meanest of all his saints. 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 427 

Observe how Paul, after saying, Col. ii. 9, " In him 
dwelleth all the fulness of the godhead bodily," imme- 
diately adds, " And ye are complete in him, which is 
the Head of all principality and power." There is, 
from those celestial and unseen fountains, a perpetual 
flow downwards to om' world, where the heirs of the 
kingdom, amidst a thousand weaknesses, are struggling 
along towards the purchased possession. Of these, 
many a one, contemplating this reserve of power and 
deposit of wealth, has forgotten his thorn and the buf- 
feting of Satan, and has exulted, " Most gladly, there- 
fore, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power 
of Christ may rest upon me ; therefore I take pleasiure 
in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecu- 
tions, in distresses, for Christ's sake ; for when I am 
weak, then am I strong." Here, then, is the confession 
of weakness, but here also is. the avowal of strength. 
And surely, Christians, it is worth your inquiry, how 
you may find this strength and exercise this confidence, 
in those various conditions which await you in the re- 
mainder of life. 

1. And here it seems most natural to make our be- 
ginning with the particular trial which drew these words 
from our apostle. It was that of poverty, or worldly 
embarrassment, which in every age has been the lot of 
the majority of mankind, and especially the majority of 
Christians. The fact that religion has wrought its 
chief wonders among the humble, and that God has 
chosen the poor of this world, " rich in faith," is too 



428 STKENGTH IN CHRIST. 

clear to be questioned ; but the reasons of the fact may 
not be so apparent. Among them may be these ; first, 
that the infinite benevolence of God stoops with its 
comforts and supports to those who are most sunken, 
who suffer the greatest ills, and who are despised by 
the luxurious and magnificent. Therefore into ten 
thousand cottages and even hovels, the blessed Jesus, 
who was himself a poor man, has entered, to convey the 
" durable riches " of grace. And then, the humbling 
influence of penury and want, scanty fare which keeps 
daily fast, and sadness which ensures nightly vigils, the 
hardships of aching hmbs, nakedness, uncertain lodging, 
wailing children, contempt of the lofty and oppression 
of the strong — this humbhng discipline — fits the soul 
of man for that message which passes unheeded by the 
mansions of ease and self-importance. However it may 
be accounted for, the people of God, in the best periods 
of the Church, have often fomid themselves in a situa- 
tion of straitened means. Moreover, the sohcitude 
and fear of the heart may vex those who are far above 
the condition of degraded indigence or open men- 
dicity. Clouds may overhang the morrow of the indus- 
trious father, the pallid widow, or the lonely relict of 
a once prosperous house; when channels run low, re- 
som'ces fail, as the barrel and the cruse seem near 
exhaustion. Times of commercial depression some- 
times bring compulsory retrenchment into hundreds of 
Christian families at once. And poverty, my brethren, 
even hi this wider sense, is a trial which it is hard to 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 429 

bear. Dependence is a yoke that galls the dehcate 
sensibihty. The heart of a good man may faint for a 
moment under the unexpected load. You, who never 
knew a day of hunger or shuddered at the knock of 
an obdurate creditor, would find your resolution brought 
to a rude test, if suddenly your household state should 
be reduced to the standard of the poor. The very ap- 
prehension of a reverse, so depressing and yet so com- 
mon, brings the servant of God to the point of weak- 
ness ; and after his first agitation, he proceeds to take 
account of his spiritual stock. How is it with the bank 
of faith ? AVhat hold is there on the treasm^e in heaven ? 
Many a one, blessed be God, has been able to reply, in 
the terms of the Old Testament, "Although the fig-tree 
shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; 
the labour of the ohve shall fail, and the fields shall 
yield no meat ; flie flock shall be cut off from the fold, 
and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet will I re- 
joice in Jehovah, I will joy in the God of my salvation." 
THE LORD GOD IS MY STRENGTH. Ycs, the Ncw Tes- 
tament behever, seeing more clearly, will more tri- 
umphantly add, the Lord Jesus is my strength ; I can 
do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. 
I can be abased and can abound ; I can be fuU and be 
happy. I have that part which cannot be taken away, 
bags that wax not old, mvestments that cannot be de- 
preciated. My security is eternal in the heavens. My 
treasure and my heart are above. Having Christ, I have 
all thhigs. Without him the wealth of kingdoms would 



450 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

but sink me to ruin ; with him, I can be content upon a 
crust. My soul is strengthened to peace and acquies- 
cence. He to whom I have committed the greater, will 
be surety for the less. " Is not the life more than meat, 
and the body than raiment ? '' I am firm in the persua- 
sion that my Lord and Master, who has my love, wiU 
never allow me to sink under cares of this hfe. Thus 
the power of Christ is glorified in the experience of many 
a straitened but contented soul. 

2. This case, then, of temporal necessity was that 
which drew out the believing and exultant affirmation 
of Paul. But the source of power and solace and 
assurance, is equally full for every instance of worldly 
solicitude. Let us look at one of the most familiar. 
As we are year by year journeying towards the certain 
termmation of our course, in death, so we may be said 
to be dying daily. Each New Year's day marks an- 
other approach to dissolution. Even under the roses 
of health, the worm is at its fatal work. In some, the 
symptoms of mortality are striking and undeniable. 
To themselves and others, they appear as frail, decaying 
creatures. Sometimes there are vehement shocks of 
acute malady, which foreshadow the taking down of the 
shattered tent. Sometimes there is a train of weak- 
nesses, aches, and despondencies, which keep the sum- 
mons forever at the door. In such as attain old age, 
that period is but a long, incurable disease. Nothing 
more convicts man of his feebleness, than bodily dis- 
temper. A few nights of rolHng and tossing in the sea 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 43]^ 

of pain, suffice to bring robust and stalwart health 
into puling infirmity. We do not find that earthly re- 
sources avail much in this contest. The blow that first 
strikes the body, presently lacerates the mind. " The 
spirit of a man wiU sustain his infirmity, but a wounded 
sphit who can bear? " Here, then, just where nature 
surrenders, is the point where grace triumphs. Such 
strength is given in every age of the chm-ch, every 
day, yea, this very moment. Take the extreme case, 
where death is certain and near. The Lord Jesus has 
not mthdrawn his helpful arm. Nay, some of his 
cliiefest condescensions are vouchsafed to those who 
have " the sentence of death " in themselves, that they 
should not trust in themselves, "but in God which 
raiseth the dead.'' Our benign Redeemer loves to hold 
up the sinking head of one whom he is about to release 
forever. "He giveth power to the faint : and to them 
that have no might he increaseth strength." In pro- 
portion as the promise of worldly good is abolished, the 
faithful soul grows mighty in the certainty and nearness 
of heavenly good ; pledged to him in that divine Head, 
who bare our sicknesses and carried our sorrows, and 
who can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities. 
Nor dare I confine the enjoyment of Christ's strength 
to these particular classes of trial. Poverty and illness 
are, after all, not the most bitter and weakening of hu- 
man woes. There are secret troubles, gaping wounds 
of the spirit, mortifications, disappointments and griefs, 
which are all the more fitted to cast down and to unman, 



432 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

when they cannot be revealed to the eye of vulgar exam- 
ination, or ask the lips of forward condolence. What- 
ever the heart sinks under, causes a necessity for Christ's 
aid ; and there it is ! Amidst all the consciousness of 
sin, he who has entrusted his all to the freeness of the 
covenant, can be strong in the Lord and in the power 
of his might. " God is om* refuge and strength, a very 
present help in trouble ; therefore will not we fear, 
though the earth be removed, and though the momi- 
tains be carried into the midst of the sea." It is not 
the sufferer, it is the Saviour who is strong. " Their 
Redeemer is mighty ; the Lord of hosts is his name." 
The cordial is suited to every case. The year can bring 
no exigency which the strength laid up in Christ shall 
not meet. Make it yours, beloved hearer; and let 
God's invitation resound in your heart, " Por I the Lord 
thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, 
Fear not, I will help thee." Isa. xh. 13. 

3. From temporal, let us go to spiritual troubles. 
There is a great conflict with sin, in which we need 
divine strength. Woe be unto us, if Christ does not 
help us here. It is a conflict in which every one of us 
will be engaged, either to conquer or be conquered. If 
Paul could rise and testify, he would declare that all his 
other contentions, not exceptmg his fighting with beasts 
at Ephesus, were nothing to this; and all true Chris- 
tians have had a similar experience. The more ad- 
vanced we are in holiness, the more shall we regard 
other trials, such as affect the body, or the property, or 



STRENGTH IX CHRIST. 433 

the reputation, as not worthy to be named along with 
those which endanger the conscience. The greatest 
enemy we can possibly have, is he who makes us sin. 
The father of lies, who was a murderer from the begin- 
ning, has made his grand effort just here. His per- 
petual endeavom' is to beguile or terrify the Christian 
into sm. He had the effrontery and diabohcal madness 
to make an experiment with the Apostle and High 
Priest of our profession, in a threefold temptation. But 
the god of this world found that he had nothing in 
Jesus -J no tinder in that bosom upon which his helhsh 
sparks could kindle. His hopes are greater in tempt- 
ing poor, fallen, partially sanctified humanity. Great 
are his successes for a tmie. If you call those Chris- 
tians who have made high professions, he has caused 
thousands of Christians to fall ; and he has humbled ui 
the dust many of the real brotherhood, when, like David 
and Simon Peter, they have yielded themselves to his 
attacks. This ui\isible warfare is more fearful than the 
deadhest charge upon columns of a superior human foe. 
'* Tor we T\Testle not against flesh and blood, but against 
principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the 
darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in 
high places." The odds are fearful, if you look at your 
own native strength. I apprehend that the reason why 
some are not startled by this prospect, is, that they have 
more fear of suffering than of sinning ; or perhaps they 
cherish a secret scepticism as to their own weakness. 
Either of these errors is fatal to progress in rehgion. 
28 



434 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

There is that before eacli of us, in the way of conflict 
and temptation, which -will not only bring all our powers 
to the test, but wiU leave us defeated and utterly ruined, 
unless we have some strength greater than our OAvn. 
And if we truly value holy obedience, we shall delight 
in the assurance that this battle is not to be fought by 
us alone. What will not the soldier dare, who is led by 
a brave and invincible commander? Such is ours. 
" Through God we shall do vahantly ; for he it is that 
shall tread dovm. our enemies." Ps. Ix. 12. Not only 
have we Christ as a leader, but as the very somxe of 
our strength against sin, by oiu^ union with him, and 
the consequent effluence from Him to us of the Holy 
Spirit, the source of all hght, purity and strength. It 
is belief of this, and trust in the covenant terms, which 
authorize the disciple to say, " I can do all things, 
through Christ which strengtheneth me." I can stand 
up in a struggle which would prostrate me in a moment, 
if my own power was aU. This is the victory that 
overcometh the world, even our faith. I can pass un- 
hurt through temptations also, for no temptation shall 
befaU. me but that wliich is common to man ; and in 
Christ's name I will steadfastly resist the roaring hon, 
knowing that the same afflictions are accomphshed in 
my brethren that are in the world. Christ's strength 
will be mme in the moment of sore trial. 

4. It remains to say something about an obvious 
apphcation of the words before us to the case of ex- 
pected labours for God. In this we include every 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 435 

thing whicli falls under the denomination of active 
obedience. For work, there must be strength. For 
Christian work, there must be spiritual strength. This 
does not exist in us by nature ; nor even by grace and 
after renewal does it so exist, as to be a permanent 
stock, upon which we can draw, as something of our 
own. It is the plan of God that his redeemed people 
should feel their dependence at every step. They are 
not sufficient of themselves to think any thing as of 
themselves, but all their sufficiency is of God. This is 
true of the ordinary com-se of Christian performance. 
Every well-instructed disciple has discovered that he 
cannot walk for a single hour without the sustentation 
of the Divine arm. Those moments in which we are 
left a Httle to om- own resources, are moments of dark- 
ness and grief, if not of disgrace and discomfiture. 
Satan desires to have us, that he may sift us as wheat, 
but Christ prays for us and succours us. He leads 
the safest, truest, happiest hfe, who most consciously 
leans upon the strength of the Redeemer, and takes 
each several step of the way, with his eye fixed on the 
Author and Finisher of his faith. 

But if this is true of those labours which are ordi- 
nary, much more strikingly true is it of such as are 
extraordinary. Special demands of service are some- 
times made. This is true in all branches of important 
worldly trust. Pride or temerity might smile at the 
gi'ave view which an humble behever takes of new pe- 
riods of life, new relations, new circumstances, new 



436 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

calling and office. He shrinks from what is laid upon 
him. As Moses : " Who am I, that I should go unto 
Pharaoh ? " As Obadiah : " And now thou sayest. 
Go, tell thy lord, Behold Elijah is here ; and he shall 
slay me." As Isaiah : " Woe is me, for I am undone." 
As Jeremiah ; " Ah, Lord God ! behold I cannot speak : 
for I am a child.'' As Ananias : " Lord, I have heard 
by many of this man, how much evil he hath done to 
thy saints at Jerusalem." When weakness is joined 
with unbelief, prospective labours are appalling. If we 
could enter into the secret experience of those Christian 
heroes who have achieved the greatest wonders for God, 
we should probably find that their mighty acts were 
not performed without some foregoing trepidation and 
sense of incompetency. Jacob weeps and wrestles be- 
fore he is named a prince of God. The astonishing 
valour of Paul was a fruit of grace ; and who knows how 
often the day of courage and endurance may have fol- 
lowed a night of agony ? It is not only common, but 
it is good, to feel ourselves very weak in divine things. 
Then it is that we take hold of strength. Amidst 
floods of apprehension, the Psalmist cries : " When my 
heart is overwhelmed within me, lead me to the Rock 
that is higher than I ! " Then when the self-distrust- 
ing one beholds the countenance of heavenly friendship 
turned full upon him, he knows on what to depend, 
and sings, " I can do aU things, through Christ which 
strengtheneth me." 

The careful examination of the text will show you 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 437 

that it contains more tlian an acknowledgment of weak- 
ness ; more than a persuasion that there is strength m 
another ; it expresses the fixed purpose to go forward in 
duty, relying on Christ. It not only says, In myself I 
can do nothing, but In Christ I can do aU things. And 
this is the very point of faith, to which we need to be 
brought ; nor, till we are brought thither, shall we ever 
accomplish any high achievement in Christianity. We 
must feel that there is sohd ground under our feet, be- 
fore we can march confidently onward. This unwaver- 
ing belief of the treasure laid up for us in Christ, is faith. 
It runs forward beyond the scope of sight ; beyond all 
that has been traversed by actual experience. It takes 
God at his word, and rests on his assurance. Beheving 
that he will call to no labours for which he does not fur- 
nish strength, it attempts much, and trusts mightily 
while attempting. The Christian, under these exercises 
of mind, does not put off the beginning of performance 
until the moment when he shall be sensible of Divine 
aid flowing in upon his soul, but puts forth endeavours 
now, in the assiu-ance that consciousness of strength 
will accompany sincere effort. It is the only principle 
upon which rational obedience can be rendered. For if 
we never undertake a duty until all inward difficulties 
be removed, we only act over the part of him in Greek 
fable, who deferred crossmg the river till aU its waves 
should flow by. No ; true courage and holy resolution 
will rather look the obstacle in the face, saying of it, 
even when most insuperable to the eye of nature : " I 



438 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth 



me." 



And now, with the year before us, have we not, my 
Christian brethren, a watchword, with which to be dih- 
gent and undaunted for God? The ancient com- 
manders used to cheer their soldiers on the eve of bat- 
tle, by assurances that some of their favourite deities 
were descending to fight in the ranks ; and the false- 
hood added vigour to their hearts and nerve to their 
arms. But in our soldiership we have the blessed truth 
to stimulate us, that the Captain of our salvation goes 
before us. Come prosperity or come pain, come wealth 
or bereavement, come health or sickness, come tempta- 
tion or labour — ^if Christ be with us, all shall be well ! 
And mth us he is, and wiU be, if we are his people, 
and if his promise is true. We greatly err by making 
a sort of merit of our misgivings, and groaning over our 
weakness, as if this were pleasing to God ; when, indeed, 
a high aspiring faith and unwavering confidence in 
God's aid for the future, is more welcome to him, and 
unspeakably more productive of obedience in us. If 
you have no satisfactory persuasion that the transform- 
ing work of grace has passed upon your souls, you 
have a great previous question to settle, and I implore 
you not to adjourn it. But if you have believed, you 
may make the words of the text your own, in prospect 
of the year. And that, together, and as with one 
accord, we might go forward with these words blazoned 
on our shields 1 When the Lord Jesus was about to 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 439 

ascend to heaven, lie gave a solemn commission to liis 
original apostles, in wliich he assigned to them their 
work. But the commission was prefaced by these 
words : " AU power is given unto me in heaven and in 
earth." It is this mediatorial power of the Lord our 
Master, this communicated power, resting in the Head, 
to which we as his members are privileged to resort. 
That strength is ours, if we lay hold of it by faith ; 
wMch shows us again, what we are continually learn- 
ing both in the Word and in experience, the value and 
necessity of faith ; not only for first receiving Christ, 
but for walking in him. Just so much fortitude in 
affliction and courage in action have we, as we have 
faith. What we want for the year is more faith. The 
circumstances of some now present may be greatly and 
unexpectedly changed dming the year. No preacher, 
no friend, no father, could expound to you the particular 
exigencies of the near futm^e ; and when the trial comes, 
you will feel that it is novel, and unhke all you have 
known before. For such junctures you cannot make 
special or detailed preparation. But here is a preparation 
which is sovereign, and universally applicable. Believe 
in the Lord Jesus, cast yourself on his arm, and appro- 
priate his strength. Then, though it should be yom- 
lot to go down into the swellings of Jordan, you shall 
not be taken unawares. One of the most illustrious 
and triumphant deathbeds at which I have ever been 
summoned to minister, was that of a lovely Christian 
woman, of refined sensibility and timid disposition. 



440 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 

wlio was suddenly smitten down in a strange city, on a 
journey far from friends, and out of the midst of appa- 
rently perfect liealtli. And yet Christ was her strength 
and joy, and became her salvation ; so that even the 
alarm of this strange surprise was wholly taken away 
from her. 

In the history of the Church we meet with some 
striking instances of persons who have done extraordi- 
nary service, and had uncommon success, whose naiftes 
are remembered with benediction, even in nations far 
asunder and for successive ages. These are the men of 
faith. They had learnt the secret of power. They 
dared much and endeavoured much, because they were 
backed and sustained by Christ's strength, which they 
acted on, and about which they had no misgivings. If 
you desire to be more useful than you have ever been, 
go to the field, as David against the Phihstine, with a 
steady belief that yom- Lord will poiu' in the strength 
as certainly as you put forth the effort. Happy indeed 
will the New Year be to you, if you set about its tasks 
in this temper. Does the sinking of conscious weak- 
ness unnerve and subdue you ? Turn yourself wholly 
over upon the Everlasting Arm. Por some of you, 
beloved hearers, I have had and still have, peculiar 
anxieties for the changes which this very year may 
bring about. I have hved long enough to know, that 
great revolutions of mind and heart may be effected in 
a very brief period. " But I fear, lest by any means, 
as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so 



STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 



441 



your minds should be corrupted from tlie simplicity 
that is in Christ/' However unlikely it may seem to 
you now — nay, however abhorrent it may be from all 
your present feehngs — a few months or even weeks, un- 
der new influences, may suffice to carry you down the 
current of worldly and fashionable religion. The teach- 
ings to which you now hsten with respect and docility, 
will have lost all charm, and the simphcity that is in 
Christ will have been exchanged for a polished but cold, 
an attractive but uninfluential, a philosophical but un- 
evangehcal strain, which shall fill the ear and entertain 
the intellect, and fascinate the. imagination, but from 
which Jesus crucified shall be totally absent. How 
shall such a defection be prevented ? How shall such 
instabihty be guarded ? Only by being strong in the 
Lord. And if, by intimate communion with him in 
devotional exercises, you are made to " grow in grace 
and the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ," then, 
and then only, will you be enabled to " stand in the 
evil day, and having done all, to stand." Now, be- 
loved, ha\dng on this first Sabbath of the New Year 
sat together in the rest and refreshment of the sanc- 
tuary, as under a pleasant shade by the wayside, and 
being uncertain whether we shall ever meet thus 
again, or who among us shall, during this period, be 
called away ; let us arise, and lift our burdens, and take 
up again the pilgrim staff, and set out anew upon our 
journey. We might utter the words of Moses : " If thy 
presence go not with me, carry us not up hence." 



442 STKENGTH m CHRIST. 

Ex. xxxiii. 15. The Lord has been with us; let us 
hope that he will not forsake us. As a church we can 
do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth us. 
We can chng together ; we can grow ; we can open out 
bosom to receive the young, the stranger, and the wan- 
derer; we can abound in good offices and acts of 
charity ; we can break forth to found new colonies for 
Christ ; we can part with property, health, friends, yea, 
life itself, at the Master's call; we can drink deeply at 
the wells of truth, and derive nourishment from the 
bread of the Word ; we can cast behind us old sins, and 
put on us the armour of Hght, letting our godly exam- 
ple shine on all around us ; we can rejoice alway, and 
glory in tribulation also. All this, and more than this, 
can we do through him that strengtheneth our hearts. 
But mthout Him, branches separated from the Vine, we 
can do nothing. 



XX 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE * 



Isaiah xl. 31. 

"But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they 
shaU mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run and not be 
weary ; and they shall walk and not faint." 

Compared with Psalm ciii. 5. 

" Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things ; so that thy youth is 
renewed like the eagle's." 

Statues would be erected to tlie man who could 
disclose the secret of a happy Old Age. For while the 
most of mankind desire longevity, the judgment is 
equally universal that the decline of life is painful. 
The same law, however we may expound it, which 
binds over the entire race to dissolution, makes the 
avenues to death full of terror. The sentimentahsm 
and poetry of our day, in a vain contest with the nature 

* New York, January 20, 1850. 



446 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

of things, would hang garlands over the grave, and 
educate the risuig race in a persuasion that death has 
no horrors. But nature, how often soever driven out, 
persists in returning. We dread death ; and we dread 
that old age which procrastinates it. Such is our 
dilemma. Viewed from the terrestrial side, the fearful 
object is seen aright. It is revelation, and grace con- 
firmed to us by revelation, which clear the prospect. 
In what manner this is effected will be made apparent, 
if we consider these two statements included in our text. 
1. That Old Age is naturally a time of weakness and 
trouble ; but, 2. That Christian confidence and hope in 
God give freshness, strength and joy, even in the period 
of Old Age. 

I. Old Age is naturally a time of weakness and 
trouble. We see it for ourselves ; even if we have not 
begun to feel it. TiU Hfted out of the common track 
of opinion, every one looks on the aged as withdrawn 
from the path of happiness. Civilization and its refine- 
ments have undoubtedly elevated the condition of the 
aged, as truly as of the female sex. Yet even this is 
often no more than a delicate feigning; for if rank, 
wealth, place and power be abstracted, there is nothing 
reverential in such appellations as " the old man " and 
" the old woman." In this country, at least, we are on 
this head more Athenians than Lacedemonians. Of a 
surety we do not imitate the Hebrew, who is taught to 
rise up before the hoary head. Universally we attach 
to old age associations of debihty and consequent with- 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. ^ 4 4 'J' 

drawal from tlie arena of excitement and the bower of 
mirth. The old man's faculties are dim, and his sus- 
ceptibilities are obtunded. He is left out of the pro- 
gramme of entertainment. If called to feasting, he is 
expected to say with Barzillai : " Can I hear any more 
the voice of singing men and singing women ? " In a 
great, nmnber of instances, also, age is regarded as a 
disquahfication for active service. And these results 
strike us more forcibly in those ruder states of society 
where nature presents its nude reality. All the history, 
aU the fiction, aU the observation of the world, ascribe 
to this stage of the human journey much of shadow, 
cloud, and obstruction. As it respects the fact, the case 
is not otherwise presented by Scripture. These are the 
days in which the weary one says : " I have no pleasure 
in them." If lengthened out, "yet is their strength 
labour and sorrow." " Surely every man walketh in a 
vain show; surely they are disquieted in vain; he 
heapeth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather 
them." In the prospect of such hours of gloom, the 
Psalmist prays : " Cast me not off in the time of old 
age ; forsake me not when my strength faileth." When 
the youthful wish for long life, they seek they know not 
what. Age is sohtary ; the tritest figure is the most 
apt : the tree whose branches have been lopped off, tiU 
it stands a naked trunk. Such is the tax paid for lon- 
gevity. Decline does not commonly arrive without a 
succession of warnings, enigmatically depicted in that 
strange oriental passage which closes the Ecclesiastes. 



448 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

Limbs grow stiff; the repast is toilsome ; articulate ut- 
terance is hindered ; sight and hearing become obtuse ; 
pains visit and revisit the frame, and at length make 
settlement. Caution waxes inordinate, and turns into 
timorous apprehension. Seasons of hilarity decrease, 
and the wintry nights are long. It requires something 
from another sphere than that of nature, to prevent 
despondency, suspicion and discontent. If the diseases 
which portend departure act on the physical functions, 
the sadness of a worldly Old Age is deplorable. If 
poverty or neglect or domestic disappointment be added 
to the loss of aU life's pleasures and excitements, old 
age is a great and almost insupportable malady. Yet 
obsen^ation, in all varieties of condition, shows that the 
love of hfe abides in perfect vigour. We might expect 
that very weariness of Hving would make the old man 
prompt to go ; but the ligament becomes only more 
tenacious. The wisest instructor we ever had used to 
say, and to say in old age, that natural decay pro- 
duced no increase of readiness to depart. An eminent 
^mter on Pastoral Theology reports, as of his own ob- 
servation, that more than a hundred young persons, 
whose deathbeds he visited, passed away in peace ; that 
the middle aged clung more closely to life ; but that 
the most unwilhng of aU were the aged.* Even the 
crime of self-murder is perpetrated oftener by the young 
than the old. At no period does man hang on worldly 

* " Erfalirungen am Kranken und Sterbebette ; " von E. Kuendig. 
Basle, 1856. 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 449 

things witli a more tenacious clutch, than when they 
are all about to be rent away together. This very 
much levels the condition of rich and poor in old age. 
The wealthy sinner has that which he can no longer 
enjoy ; yet never did he so yearningly gape for more. _ 
The ship is in the very harbour ; yet the voyager is 
amassing fresh stores. It is a madness which consti- 
tutes part of the punishment of an irreligious life. The 
thirst of gain is insatiable. Comedy and satire in all 
languages have painted the same picture. Young 
enthusiasts think that when they shall be old and rich, 
they will diffuse blessedness on hundreds around them ; 
and it is true this would tend to make the close of life 
delightful. But when they have reached the point, 
alas, the heart has grown old and is withered. Scores 
may have died who might have been claimants for aid ; 
poor kinsfolk may have been long ago warned off by 
the chilly barrier ; the doleful habitation may have its 
valves all opening inwards ; and yet there is not enough. 
Just such a spot, in Gentile mythology,, was the hell of 
Tantalus. Such old age is trouble and sorrow. So 
Solomon concludes ; " There is one alone, and there is 
not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor brother : 
yet there is no end of all his labour : neither is his eye 
satisfied with riches ; neither saith he, For Avhom do I 
labour, and bereave my soul of good ? This also is 
vanity, yea, it is a sore travail." Ecc. iv. 8. 

Even the true Christian, when his case is viewed 
without the solace of which we shall presently speak, 
29 



450 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

sometimes passes tlirougli great trials in the latter por- 
tion of his life. To some the Valley of the Shadow of 
Death is long and dreary. Diversities of corporeal dis- 
ability, family vexation, and mental agitation or depres- 
sion, assault and weaken the resolution which has with- 
stood repeated shocks. And I freely owm, that if we 
could take no higher view of life than that which is 
admitted by the sceptical world, we should abandon 
the worn-out creatm^e to his despair. He might, in 
lucid intervals of a partial belief, cry out to his Maker, 
" Why hast thou made all men in vain ? " What can 
be more melancholy, than a soul about to migrate to an 
unknown state ? There is something so contrary to 
nature in the forced attempts at gayety which some- 
times disgrace aged people of the world, that society is 
prompt to manifest its disgust. The gravitation of na- 
tive temperament prevails over all such affectations, 
mockeries and disguises. The solitary hour is honest, 
and it is dark. Outward mementoes are multiplied. 
Ah, in how many funeral processions must the survivor 
walk mth sad decorum, himself a living sermon to all 
around ! " Because man goeth to his long home, and 
the mourners go about the streets." No longer delighted 
to live, yet afraid to die, the worldly man who has sur- 
\dved his contemporaries, grows sullenly silent and 
keeps his own secret. Por to whom shall he go with 
that complaint, which only serves to break the spell of 
his cherished delusion and reveal him to himself? Dear 
as his gold is, he would almost barter it all for a draught 



YOUTH RENEWED IX AGE. 45]^ 

of tliat fountain of youth wliicli Spanisli adventure 
sought in tropical America. The poor disquieted suf- 
ferer is faint, and discovers, that so far as nature reaches, 
old age is a time of weakness and trouble. 

II. Christian confidence and hope in God give 
freshness, strength and joy, even in the period of Old 
Age. "They that wait on Jehovah," or in modern 
English, they that wait for him, who evince their trust 
in his goodness and power by patiently awaiting the 
fulfilment of his promises, they, though no longer 
young (mark the contrast with v. 30), " shall renew 
then- strength; they shall mount up on wings hke 
eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall 
walk and not faint." The same thought is in the 
thanksgiving of the one hundred and tlmd Psalm, 
V. 5 : " Bless Jehovah, O my soul, who satisfieth thy 
mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed 
like the eagle's." From both we may conclusively 
gather that Divine grace has influences to bestow which 
can counteract and often annul the debilitating tenden- 
cies of Old Age. We are not authorized, it is true, to 
teach that any degree of religious afiection can turn 
back the shadow on the dial-plate, restore its aubm^n 
beauty to the gray head, or neutralize the physical 
causes of distress ; though even here, such is the power 
of sphit over matter, that history shows marvels of an 
almost youthful gladness in blessed Christian old age. 
But we may and can assert, that he whose habits have 
been formed in a perpetual waiting upon God, receives 



452 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

a hallowed unction of grace, which, so to speak, makes 
him young again, or, more properly, keeps him from 
waxing old within. In the most rapid survey, we have 
considered some of the causes which make this season 
of life formidable. All ages have observed them ; all 
philosophies have sought to destroy or lessen theii^ force. 
The most accomplished of all Roman authors has left 
nothing more finished than his celebrated tract on Old 
Age. Short of the meridian beam of revelation and its 
reflections, nothing ever showed more nobly ; yet the 
ray of its consolations is but a beautiful moonlight. In 
vain is the venerable Cato introduced to teach us secrets 
which Cato never knew. In this gem-like treatise 
Cicero refers the troubles of age to four classes. Old 
Age, so he tells us, is feared because (1) it withdraws 
from the affairs of hfe ; because (2) it brings infirmity 
of body ; because (3) it abridges or ends our pleasures ; 
and (4) because it leads to death. Already, in treat- 
ing of these several heads, much is said truly, ably, 
and to a certain extent satisfactorily, on the first and 
third topics; but on the last, there is nothing but 
melancholy conjecture. Even in regard to the other 
heads, of business, health and pleasure, the suggestions 
are infinitely below those known by the hmnblest Chris- 
tian rustic. Por what did this great and eloquent Ro- 
man know of the oil which grace pours into the sinking 
and almost expiring lamp ? 

It is not to be denied, when we come with candour 
to the investigation, that as a general truth, Old Age 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 453 

mthdraws men from the employments of life, and seals 
up the active business years. In the great majority of 
instances, however, this retreat for labour is voluntarily 
sought long before the access of grave infirmity. In- 
deed, in prosperous communities, many retire too early, 
under a chimerical hope of enjoying an elegant repose, 
for which they have made no provision by mental cul- 
tm^e and disciphne of moral habits. There is, it is 
true, another sort of recession from productive labours, 
which we occasionally observe in old men, and which 
arises wholly from an unchastened selfishness. Let any 
one grow wealthy without the warming and expanding 
influences of benevolence, and he will more and more 
lose his interest in all that is going on in the world. 
Even wars and revolutions touch him only in their 
financial aspects, and the daily journal is to him not so 
much a courier of news, as a barometer of loss and 
gain. Without rehgion, the circle becomes more con- 
tracted. Friends have departed, by scores if not by 
hundreds. Wliat cares he for mighty movements in 
behalf of humanity and hohness around him ? What 
cares he for posterity, the country or the world, so that 
he can exalt his own gate, or die worth some round 
sum which floats before him as his heaven ? In the 
same degree he wraps himself in his mantle, which is 
daily shrinking to his own poor dimensions. This is 
misery indeed. Take away the blessed sun, and every 
thing becomes wintry, frozen, all but dead : take away 
more blessed love, and the heart is dumb, cheerless, in- 



454 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

sulated, meanly poor, so that the Latms named such a 
one MISER. Let us leave him, shivering in his cave, 
overhung with icicles, and come out into the evening 
sunshine to consider the aged believer. He is like 
Mnason, " an old disciple." He still leams. The 
Greek story tells us that when Solon lay dying, and 
overheard some conversation on philosophy in his apart- 
ment, he raised his head and said, " Let me share in 
your conversation, for though I am dying I would still 
be learning." Ten thousand times has this been more 
reasonably exemplified in dying Christians, who con- 
sider the whole of this life as but the lowest form of 
the school into which they have been entered. And in 
regard to activity, while modes of service must vary 
with the bodily condition, we are bold to maintain that 
innumerable Christians now living are, in advanced life, 
impressing the whole engine of human affairs with as 
momentous a touch as at any previous stage of exist- 
ence. If there is Wisdom, the proper jewel of age, and 
divine grace in its manifold actings, there need be no 
lack of influence. They still lift up the eagle pinion, 
and soar in such greatness as belongs to their nature. 
But the point to which we would ask more marked at- 
tention is this, that the aged believer, so far from being 
selfishly dead to what is going on in the world, is more 
vigilant and more in sympathy with all, than even in 
his days of youth. Blessed be God, we have seen this 
again and again. The man who waits on God, the 
man of faith and hope, the man of melting benevolence. 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 455 

looks tlirougli the loopholes of retreat upon a world 
whose vast and often terrific revolutions interest him 
chiefly as included in a cycle of providential arrange- 
ments calculated to develop and exhibit the glory of 
grace. His heart beats responsive to these. The news 
of Christ's kingdom is as dear to him as when he was 
vehemently active in the field. He looks down the 
ages by the lamp of prophecy, and beholds events 
which will take place when he shall have been long in 
paradise. This connects him with the cause of Christ 
on earth, and redeems him from that miserable dungeon- 
like seclusion of soul which wastes away the aged 
worldling. So far is it from being true that these por- 
traitm'es are figments of religious imagination, that we 
have been led to the choice of the subject by knowledge 
and recollection of this very paradox in actual example, 
to wit, extreme old age made light, strong and happy, 
by community of interest in the progressive triumphs 
of philanthropy and missions. 

When, according to the Talmudic fable, the eagle 
soars toward the sun, he renews the plumage of his 
former days. As the serene disciple withdraws himself 
from any personal agency in the entangling plans of life, 
he studies more profoundly what his Master is weaving 
into the web of history. No longer young, he has 
a heart which gushes in sympathy with the young. He 
cheers them on. He places the weapons in their hands. 
He takes from the wall his sword, shield, and helmet, 
and rejoices that God still has younger soldiers m the 



456 YOUTH RENEWED IX AGE. 

field. He lives Ms life over again in tlieir achieve- 
ments, and pictures to himself more signal victories 
after he shall have gone. Like the wounded hero Wolfe, 
he could even die more happy if the shout of victory 
should arouse his failing perception. Par from being 
shut up in morose neglectful selfishness, he glories that 
God's cause still fives and must prevail. 

2. But, then, you retort, there is a sad infirmity, 
inseparable from Old Age. Piety, however exalted, 
will not remove this. Of all diseases this is proverbi- 
ally the most incurable. Brethren, we might take the 
liigh ground, that godliness hath the promise of the 
life that now is ; that temperance and other virtues 
prolong life and avert disease ; that the righteous shall 
'' see good days," and that rehgion is the best of all 
medicines. But fearing lest we should be charged with 
exaggeration by the inexperienced, we wfil pitch our 
cause on a lower plane, and rest content with declaring 
that Christian confidence and hope confer a strength 
which is perfectly compatible with aU this bodily weak- 
ness, decay and pain. Christianity, my hearers, is a 
system of indemnities. It does not insure us exemp- 
tion from aU losses, but it guarantees that these shall 
be more than made up to us. True, the grand indem- 
nification is at the recompense of the resurrection. But 
prehbations of glory are poured into the earthly vessels 
of grace. The quickenmg charm is not natural, but 
supernatural. Mark, in the twenty-eighth verse, how 
the eternal increate fount of good is pointed out ; and 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 457 

learn how the fulness of God, through a Mediator, be-* 
comes the available supply of man : '' Hast thou not 
known ? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, 
Jehovah, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth 
not, neither is weary? There is no searching of his 
understandmg. He giveth power to the faint!' Here 
is human infirmity brought into connection with Om- 
nipotence. Here is the solution of Paul's enigma, 
"When I am weak, then am I strong." Here is 
Christ's cordial to the aged, ''My strength is made 
perfect in weakness." But let us return to om^ prophet. 
He represents even blooming adolescence as despond- 
ing, while the feeble are made powerful by faith. 
" Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the 
young men shall utterly fall ; but they that wait on the 
Lord shall renew their strength." 

In the return from Babylon the oldest were sad- 
dest ; for they remembered the glory of the first house. 
Nehemiah, therefore, had peculiar reference to them, 
when he said to the weeping assembly, " Neither be ye 
sorry ; for the joy of the Lord is yom^ strength." Holy 
joy is a springhead of renewed youthfulness. The 
effects of grief and age are not unhke. How often 
have we seen a friend go into the house of mourning, 
young, and come out old? Such was David's expe- 
rience, Ps. xxxii. 3 : " My bones waxed old, through 
my moaning all the day long ; for day and night thy 
hand was heavy upon me : my moisture is turned into 
the drought of summer." The cedars and palms of 



458 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

the sanctuary, planted in the house of the Lord, " shall 
still bring forth fruit in old age, they shall be fat and 
flourishing," Ps. xcii. Make a soul thorouglily glad, 
and you make it young. The effusion of divine joys 
has virtue to annul outward disabilities. For obsen'e 
the perfect analogy of another passage concerning 
strength. Is. xxxv : " Strengthen ye the weak hands, 
and confirm the feeble knees : say to them that are of 
a fearful heart. Be strong, fear not ! " " Then shall the 
lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb 
shall sing." Such is grace, superseding natm-e, concili- 
athig contraries, making the feeble mighty and giving 
youth to the aged. And how greatly would our ex- 
perience and observation of the gift be increased, if with 
liigher faith and expectation we were waiting upon 
God! 

3. The antechamber of the Eternal abode is cold 
and appaUing to nature. This makes Old Age unwel- 
come to the unprepared. This causes the wretched 
shifts by which they avert the thought of doom. So 
successful is the delusion, that the man of seventy plans 
for to-morrow as if he were not already in many senses 
dead. No man is so old, says Cicero, but that he thinks 
he may live another day. And so from day to day, as 
by stepping stones in the turbid stream, they totter on, 
till the sudden fall plunges them into eternity. 

The fear of death, which on the young sometimes 
works salutary reflection, often becomes to the aged a 
motive for abstracting the thoughts from the hateful 



YOUTH KENEWED IN AGE. 459 

subject ; and so they think of somethmg else, and are 
damned. I dare not undertake to say, what may be 
the reflections of the old worldling, when he lies down 
for the last struggle, and finds that Eternity is da^vning 
on his soul, and yet that he has not made the least pro- 
vision for meeting his God. But I know, for I have 
often seen, how strong in faith and hope may be the 
old age of the true Christian. After all, it is celestial 
HOPE which sheds the dew of youth on his silver locks. 
His posture is that of waiting, as watchers expect the 
dawn. " More than they that watch for the morning." 
Fresh blood seems to course through those outworn 
arteries, as Hope waves the hand of indication towards 
perpetual spring and everlasting youth. Not in the 
mere elysian or Mohammedan sense, though we deny 
the attributes and enjoyments of that bodily comple- 
ment of the soul which is to be raised in incorruption, 
in glory, in power, a spiritual body. But the fresh 
breath of knowledge, of reason, of truth, therefore of 
beauty, of love, of universal holiness, is wafted from 
those gardens to the ancient believer, as he worships, 
' leaning on the top of his staff,' and sojom^ns a little 
in the land of Beulah. We have sometimes seen the 
clearness and vigour of former years come back. Call 
not that man old, who is full of joys and hallelujahs, 
and who is eager to drop the clog, shuffle off the mortal 
coil, and soar like a bird set free from the snare of the 
fowler. Call him old who is inveterate in sin ; who 
never prays ; who dares not think of death ; who is 



460 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

without God and without hope, and on whose hoary 
head no blessing ever descends. The Simeon who has 
Christ in his arms, has in him a well of water spring- 
mg ; and so the true fountain of youth. All believing 
and sublime exercises of Cluistian experience have in 
them something as fresh as childhood. Once when I 
was supporting a very aged behever from the house of 
God, he turned to me and said : " I never felt younger, 
and I believe that promise is fulfilled in me, He ' satis- 
fieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is 
renewed like the eagle's.' " This persuasion, that true 
rehgion brings the soul into fellowship vdih aU that is 
free, hopefid and advancing in earth, and all that is 
bright and perfect in heaven, led the most distinguished 
of late German theologians, Schleiermacher, to say, in 
the close of a long life : " The true Christian is always 
young." 

The racy old EngUsh of John Bunyan best sets 
forth this stage of pilgrimage : " Here they heard con- 
tinually the singing of birds, and saw every day the 
flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the 
turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth 
night and day. Here they were within sight of the city 
they were going to : also they met some of the inhab- 
itants thereof ; for in this land the shining ones com- 
monly walked, because it was upon the borders of 
heaven. In this land also the contract between the 
Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed, yea, here, ' as 
the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. ^Ql 

God rejoice over them." My beloved brethren, we 
must be submissive to God's will, even if such an even- 
ing of life be not vouchsafed to us. Yet I will maintain, 
that it is of the nature of Christianity to produce such 
joys. The exceptions are not from grace, but from 
disturbing causes in our partially unsanctified hearts. 
Waiting on God is directly promotive of fresh and 
heavenly strength. The long continued practice and 
rooted habit of waiting upon God, in confidence and 
expectation, are the best preparative for a serene dechne 
and a happy end. 

If the sentiment of the world may be safely judged 
from its reflection in the mirror of the fictitious litera- 
ture, which is seized with most avidity and reproduced in 
the greatest number of languages, then unquestionably 
the opinion is, that there is no happiness in evangehcal 
piety ; and an Old Age of rehgion is one of sourness, 
vindictiveness, and misanthropic woe. Let the picture 
of a Christian matron be painted by the matchless pen- 
cil of one, whose misfortune it must have been never to 
have beheld the original, and with whom devotion and 
hypocrisy are the same, and the lineaments are such as 
these : " Great need had the rigid woman of her mys- 
tical religion, veiled in gloom and darkness, with light- 
nings of cursing, vengeance, and destruction, flashing 
through the sable clouds." I quote from the ignorant 
and malignant travesty of Christian Old Age, which 
mars the most widely current story of the hour. And 
I quote it, because it will meet response in hundreds 



462 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 

of thousands, who need the grace of Christ to avert 
these very storm-clonds of dedining day. Let a hoher 
Hterature prevail in the refined world, a literature which 
shall honour holy wedlock, family rehgion, and the 
Church of Christ, and we shall behold other por- 
traitui'es of the wife or the widow upon whom evangel- 
ical truth has shed its dews of eventide. 

You listen, my hearer, with the interest of one who 
expects to jomiiey thitherward. But you will perhaps 
never reach that stage of the way. A small proportion 
attain to hoary hairs. Yet even for you, the topic is 
not devoid of interest. That which is good for Old Age 
is good for other conditions of sadness, which resemble 
it ; for illness, disease, pain, solitude, reproach, poverty, 
or depression. When you shall have learnt to wait on 
the Lord, you shall tread all these under your feet, as 
ready to fly heavenward. 

That which prepares for Old Age, prepares for the 
termination of life at any age. It is decreed that every 
human life shall close ; and most close early. To go 
suddenly and unprepared into that shadow is fearful. 
Does not wisdom commend this familiar, trustful, filial 
waiting upon God? The judicious and eloquent Sau- 
RiN wished that he might in every sermon make some 
allusion to Death, because he had remarked how uni- 
versally this consideration was affecting to the mind. 
The Father of our spirits meant that it should be thus. 
Endure the contemplation long enough to chill carnal 



YOUTH RENEWED IX AGE. 453 

ardours and dispel the juvenile mirage. Even in pros- 
perity wait on the Lord. 

It would be treachery in me to conceal altogether 
the woe and peril of a Christless Old Age. Horrid 
anomaly ! So dead to this world's pleasures, so near to 
heaven or hell, and yet unconcerned. Tottering on his 
staff, the impenitent veteran in the camp of Satan blun- 
ders on, already half gone, and stupidly improvident as 
to the only means of dying well. O, poor old man ! 
let me in affection and pity cry to you, seize on that 
only medicine which gives everlasting youth ! Attach 
yom"self, by acquiescing in his free redemption, to that 
Saviour whom we are authorized to offer to the worst 
and oldest. 



THE END. 



KROOKS BlULimiQI, 154 GliAKD 9T. 

2 doori East of Brmdtcity 

KEfT YORK Nevemktr 1838. 



NEW AND POPULAR BOOKS, 

JUST PUBHSHID BT 

CHARLES SCRTBNER 



TiWOTHY TITCOMB'S LETTERS 

To Young People, Sinde and Married. 1 Yol. 12 mo 
$1 00; in fall gilt, $1 50. 9tli Edition.. 

The London Literary Gazette says : — ^" "We liare never read a work 
irhich better inculcates the several duties and respoD^bilities of young 
men and women, married or single.'* 

PEASANT LIFE IN GERMANY. 

By Anna C. JonNSON, author of '' Mj^rtle Wreath," 
" The Iroquois," &c. 1 Yol. 12mo, 450 pp. $1 25. 

" Just such a hook as only a woman could wi'ite, and a woman of 
common sense, independence, intelligence, close observation, and great 
energy and perseverance. Instead of the beaten track of tourists — a 
thread-bare description of the great lions, the cities, the cathedrals and 
castles, antiquities and works of art — we have something fresh, a familiar- 
talk, as a gifted woman can talk, about the guilds and trades, farmers and 
farming, the military system and its effects, the ordinaf^ry routine of 
housekeeping, the domestics, ways of cooking, cfec, agricultural fairs, 
vineyards and the vintage, legends and superstitions, the social life of 
the people, their schools, employments, amusements, funerals, and just 
such things as travellers do not ordinarily observe, and such as are 
curious to know." 

New boot l)y the author of " Timothy Titcomb's Letters." 
BITTER SWEET. 

Bj Dr. J. Gr. Holland. 1 Yol. 12mo., cloth, 75 cents; 
full gilt, $1.25. 

Bitter-Swect is an American Poem, in its spirit, and in what may be 
called its machinery. The beneficence of the mission of evil is the roa- 
subject of the poem ; and this gives to it its pleasant and attractive 
name. The performance consists of representations of conversations, 
events and scenes occurring in the family mansion of an old Puritan 
farmer of New England, on Thanksgiving evening, and both, story and 
lessoE, are given with charming power, while the intimate treatment 
of them is marked by the freshness and originality which characterize 
the author of Titcomb's Letters, 



scribner's latevSt publications.. 



THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. MARK- 

Explained by J. Addison Alexander, D. J). 1 Vol. 
12mo., doth, $125* in half calf, $-^ '^^ V 

DISCOURSES ON COMMON TOPICS Oi CH.PJSTiAN 
FAITH AND PRACTICE. 

By Eey. Jas. W. Alexander, D. D. 1 Vol. octavo, 
•150 pages ; in clotn, ?)2 : lialf calf or clofii oilt, <J3 50 ; 
morocco, extm, $5. 

jFrom Preface. — '"'Let me avov/ ihnt there are doclriiial statements 
ia the following pvage3, -r hich, though in no sense novel, are such as 
conduce to the yery life of my soul, and such, therefore, as I am ex- 
ceedingly desirous, iu my humble measure, to rescue from misappre- 
hension and inculcate on my children and friends. * * * Years fly 
apace, natural vigour vanes, and the opportunities of personal influ- 
«nce become fewer; but my profound conviction of the verities here 
proposed, waxes stronger and stronger ivith a corresponding earnest- 
ness to difluse and impress them." 

NATURE AND THE SUPERNATURAL. 

As together constituting the one system of God. By 
Rev. Horace Busiinell, D. D. 1 YoL- octavo, 500 
pageSj §2 ; half calt^ $3 50 ; morocco extra, $5. 

This work is a thorough and philosophical discussion of the great 
question of /he age. It is a triumphant vindication of the gospel- 
history and the Christian Religion against the prevailing forms of scep- 
ticism. Its object is to verify, as against the naturalism of the day, the 
supernatural facts of the gospel-history and the facts of a genuinely 
Christian experience. It undea^talics to establish the facts of Christi- 
anity or the Christian Revelation, without raising at all the question of 
inspiration, and to verify, in short, the Christian salvation as being a 
Divine work among the causes of nature, both in the matter of Christ's 
mission, and iu the inward application of it to the soul. 

THE THEOLOGY [OF CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE. 

Designed as an Exposition of the " Common Faith " of 
the Church of God. By Rev. Geo. D. Armstrong, 
D. D. 1 Vol. 12mo., 350 pages, |1. 

Extract from the Preface. — " There is a ' Common I'aith * of tlie 
Church of God on earth, and this extending to a far greater number of 
particulars than one would think from examining the various systems 
of theology, which find favor Avith Christian men. In the following 
treatise the author has attempted to gfve a systematic presentation of 
this * Common Faith." 



LATEST PUBLICATIONS. 



HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 

Comprising tlio first three centuries from the birth of 
Christ to the reign of Constantine the Great, A. D, 
1-311. Bj Philipp Sghaff, D. D., author of •' His- 
tory of the Apostolic Church." 1 Yol. 8yo., $2 50. 

This work, though not on so extended a Bcale as that of ]S"candep, 
Is more than a mere manual, like that of Hase or Gieseler. "While 
offered as the first yoliime of a complete history of the chnych doTvn to 
the present day, it is also complete in itself as a history of the first 
three centuries — that formation period, so peculiarly interesting to all 
obserTors of the progress of the Chnrch. The reader -will find the same 
extensive and tliorough learning, philosophical analysis find generaliza- 
tion, devout earnestness of spirit, calmness and freedom of judgrnGtit, 
lucid arrangement and truly fascinating style, which have given the 
author's former work its place in the front rank of standard religions 
and theological literature. 

THE POWER OF PRAYER. 

As ilkistrated in the wonderful displays of Divine Grace, 
at the Fulton St. and other meetings in New York. 
By the Eev, lEENiEUS S. Peime, D. D., editor of 
"The Kew York Observer." 1 Yol. 12mo., $1. 

An authentic and reliable history of the origin and progress of these 
meetings — the manner in which they are conducted — sketches of the 
thrilliag scenes attending and surrounding them, with a complete 
record of the most remarkable cases of awakening and conversion, re- 
(][uests for prayer and extraordinary answers, striking incidents and 
interesting rehgious experiences. 

Early in the year 18 j9. 

A HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH IN TABULAR 
FORM. 

In fifteen Tables. Presenting in Parallel Columns a 
Synopsis of the External and Internal History of the 
Church from the Birth of Christ to A. D. 1858. By 
Professor H. B. Smith, D. D. 1 Yol. folio. 

It will be in fifteen tables, presenting in parallel columns a synopsis! 
of the external and internal history of the Church, from the birth of 
Christ to A. D. 1858. Each table contains twelve synchronistic columns, 
viz : three upon the general characteristics, the contemporaneous his- 
tory, and the state of culture and philosophy in each period ; three 
upon the external history, and six upon the internal history, under 
the heads of chin-ch hterature, polity, worship, discipline and life, doc- 
trines and controversy, heresies anil schisms. One table will be de- 
voted to the history of the Church in this coimtry ; alphabetical and 
chronological lists of Councils, Popes and Patriarchs, with a full index, 
will be appended. This work differs from other clironological tables 
in aiming at a scientific digest of the materials, rather than a mere col- 
lection of facts and dates. The divisions into periods and tables are 
made, not by centuries, but by signal historic epochs. 



SCRIBNER'fi LJLTJST PUBLICATIONS. 



17HE LITERARY ATTRACTIONS OF THE 
BIBLE. 

OB. A M^Ek TOR THB TfORD OT GOD, CO^SIDKRID A« A. CIASSIO. 

BY LE ROY J. HALSEY, D. D. 

1 YoL l»mo. $1 9&. 

In the following pages it is proposed to present an outline of -wliat 
Biay be called the incidental attractions of the Bible — to set forth its 
•I&ims, both as a classic and as a book of general education. Regarded 
Bimplj as a book of learning, of taste and genius, of history and elo- 
quence, it has exerted an influence which cannot be too highly estimated, 
and commends itself to every cultivated understanding. It is the book 
of our learning, not less than our religion ; the basis of our civilization, 
not less than our Balvation, It has moulded into shape, it has quickened 
into life, the whole body of our secular learning, as well as oiir theology 
it has breathed its own vital spirit into all our science, literature, legigr- 
lation, philosophy, nnd social and political institutions. 

It is these attractions, which may be felt and appreciated even by 
the irreligious and worldly-minded, which we propose to group togeth- 
er in one distinct and connected view. 

SERMONS FOR THE NE%Y LIFE 

r.Y HORACE BUSIINELL, D, D, 
1 Vol l2mo. 450 page?. $1.25. 
CONTENTS, l.-Erery Man's Life a Plan of God.— 11.— The Spirit in Man.- 111.- • 
Dignity of Human Nature shown from its fixiins. — IV. — The IIuDger of the Soul.-< 
v.— TLo Reason of Faith. — VI.— Retrenf ration. — Vlf. — The Personal Love and Lead 
of Christ.— V III.— Light on the Cloud.— IX.— The Capacity of Religion Extirpated, 
by Disuse. — X.— Unconscious hifiuencc.- XL — Obligation a Pnvilege. — XIL- ■ 
Happiness and Joy.— XIII.— The True Problem of Christian Experience.— XIV.- 
The Lost Purity lleetorcd.— XV.— Living to God in Small Things.— XVL— The 
Power of an Endless Life.— XVIL— Respectable Sin.— XVIII.— The Power of 
God in Self-Sacrifice. — XIX. — Duty not Measured by Our Own Ability.— XX. — Hf 
that Knows God will Confess Him.— XXL— The Efiiciency of the Passive Virtue* 
XXIL— Spiritual Dislodgments.- XXIIL— Christ as Separate from the World. 

CHINA, ITS RELiaiONS AND SUPERSTI 
TIONS. 

on, D A R K X E S S I ^f THE F L >\ E E Y L A li !> . 

BY REY. M. S. CULBERTSON. 

1 VoL 12mo. Engr-aving. Price 75 cents. v^ . 

It contains a graphic and comprehensive account of the_ religionSj 
j>opular superstitions, customs, and social condition of the Chinese — the 
result of eleven years of careful observation and study, while laboring 
as a missionary in habits of daily intercourse with the people, with a 
knowledge of their language. 

The view presented of their religious degradation, cannot fail to ib. 
terest every benevolent heart, in the efforts making to evangelize them. 
A5 an aid to the minister in the monthly concert of prayer for Foreign 
Missions, the work will be found very valuable. At the same time 
ifcfe well adapted for the Sunday School Library; and indeed must be 
interesting to every intelligent reader, who desires information about a 
country containing four hundred millions of inhabitants— one-third of 
the human family. 



^^ V" 



\O^Xs 



;*^- 



9/ * s ^ .^"^ ^ 







•oo^ 






o5 c. 


<^^ % 








\> ^^^"a_ > 



x\^^' '"./' 



^c^ 






> ^^. 



^o. 



x<^ 



v^^. 



o 0^ 






'V 



;^^ 

'y * * O 



^^'^ ^*. 



>.\-' 












s^% 



*o. 



\^ 






1- 















,0^ 

, V 









>* VX^' 






J§: 



v^^' 




r^ t ■''^ 0^' 






.^•^ ^*. 



.0 0. 



:f 



% 






ff c- 



